Harry Potter and the Children of the Circle
by A Lover of Nature
Summary: "I wish the Dursleys died in the car crash! So that my parents could be alive in their place!" That was Harry's heartfelt wish, however, unfortunately for him, while magic can kill, it cannot bring back the dead. [This story will make use of many OCs and will be told in a somewhat AU setting, though Harry and Hermione will be the main characters. The plot will diverge from canon]
1. Chapter 1: Harry's Wish

**Chapter 1: "Harry's Wish."**

"Come back here tosser!" bellowed Dudley, perhaps out of a desire to impress his goons rather than any expectation that his query would obey the command. Harry, for one, did not fancy a runny nose today, and kept running; he wasn't physically very strong, but he was at least fast enough to out run those that where. Once his chasers where out of sight, Harry turned towards the playground and bolted behind the tree by the swing.

Harry laid still on top of the twisted oak's bark, trusting the foliage for cover, and listened out for hurried steps, or his cousins' shouts to his friends. When none of these came, he released a sigh of relief and let his body relax and recover for the inevitable second half of the game.

"Why don't you teach them a lesson?" Asked an unfamiliar voice to his rear, Harry turned his eyes and saw a kid about his own age sitting on the swing. He was dark haired much like he was, and his clothing seemed worn and old fashioned, even more so then Harry's hand me downs. "Please quiet down", said Harry, "you'll give me away."

"I see," observed the boy, kicking the ground to give the swing a greater push, "so, you will keep running like a dog from its master's whip, skulking to safety at the first sign of pain, yet always going home to get it again."

"Shut up!" shouted Harry, forgetting his earlier attempt at subterfuge. A tense silence reigned between them, the boy continuing to gather momentum, while Harry made sure that Dudley's gang hadn't sneaked up on him in the meanwhile.

Finally, Harry broke the silence "If you are so smart, what would you do about it?"

"I would make them fear me", replied the boy, slowly bringing the swing to a stop.

Harry snorted, "Right, and how would I make them fear me?"

The boy smiled, it wasn't a nice smile, as it was much the same as the one Dudley wore when he finally cornered Harry after a chase. "Think of all the pain, all the humiliations they put you through, and wish, truly wish, that they pay the price."

Harry laughed at the boy, "How old are you? Five? There is no such thing as magic!" he said, and laughed again, though this time, his laughter did not last long, "Here he is! Oh, you are so gonna get it this time Potter!" shouted Dudley, bringing his gang together towards the playground. Harry cursed, they where coming from both directions, blocking his escape route, he wouldn't be able to make a run for it this time.

"You have the power, all you lack is the will to use it."

Harry ignored the crazy kid and prepared himself for the one-sided punch up that was sure to follow. But, as one moment passed, and another began, it did not come. A sudden gust of wind, extreme in its intensity, washed over the three bullies, pinning them to the ground. "What the hell is this?!" shouted Piers, currently Dudley's lead henchmen, "Come on Dudely, this is nuts, we've got to get out of here!" said the other goon. "No!" said Dudley, "We've got him cornered!" Moments later, both his friends where gone, leaving Dudley on his own.

Harry turned to run while he had the chance, but stopped when he saw the kid, now standing with his two feet on the ground, holding both hands towards Dudley, as if they where directing the wind!

"I can't keep this up for much longer, run or fight, you must choose now", said the boy, a lot paler then he had been a short while ago, clearly straining against the effort of whatever it was he was doing.

Harry's first thought was to continue running, but if he did, wouldn't Dudley bully the kid instead? Finally, when the wind weakened, and Dudley surged ahead, Harry tried to get in a punch first, the sharp pain to his chin and the red dripping out of his mouth announced his failure. Forced to the ground from the hit, Harry managed to roll away form the second punch, but when Dudley confronted him with a third, his cousin was suddenly pummelled in the face by one of the tree's branches, even though nothing could have moved it to do so. Harry searched for the boy as the origin of the anomaly but saw no one.

Dudley staggered to his feet, several scratches dotted his face, with his left eye looking much worse for wear. "My eye! It hurts! Mummy!" Screeched Dudley as he ran away.

Harry spit out the blood of his own injury, and grimaced when he noticed a tooth glittering with specks of the red liquid on the ground. If Dudley's injury was half as bad as he made it out to be… his mouth at least would have a long time to recover, since he wouldn't be partaking in any meals for a while. If Dudley's wound was serious, he shuddered at the thought of what additional punishments Vernon might inflict upon him.

Harry turned to the swing and sat on it, massaging his mouth to try and sooth away the pain. He'd stay put for now, and only get back to the house through the kitchen window once he was sure the Dursleys weren't in. They'd take Dudley to the hospital for sure, he'd gone in for a lot less in the past, plus, they wouldn't let anything spoil tomorrow's birthday outing. Sooner or later however, Harry would have to face the music.

His eyes drifted to the tree. He tried to wish the branches would move once again with no result. Something…unnatural had made the branch move, of that he was certain, and since the boy had left before it had happened, Harry could only wonder… had the boy been right? Did he have the power to make his wishes become reality?

Some thirty minutes ticked away in quiet contemplation, a cloud passed overhead, obstructing the sun and bringing the land below under a momentary darkness. "If I have that power…" Started Harry, recalling the many years of neglect, the nights spent in his cupboard hungry without reason, and the fists of his cousin and his clique hammering against his flesh.

"I wish the Dursleys died in the car crash! So that my parents could be alive in their place!" Shouted Harry with all the fear, the sorrow, the anger, and yes, the hate that he had accumulated in his psyche for his so-called relatives. A flock of birds took off from the trees to the skies in fright, but they flew uneasily, for the winds had gone haywire once more. For a moment, he'd never felt more alive. The cloud continued its journey, the light of the sun returned, and the moment passed leaving Harry with the discomfort caused by opening his mouth to a greater extent than it was comfortable with for the moment.

His parents where dead, nothing could ever change that fact, all Harry truly desired was a loving home. The sun started turning sunset red, heralding the coming of the night, "they're surely gone by now," he thought. Harry got out of the swing, and slowly skulked his way back to the Dursley household.

It was almost dark by the time Harry arrived in Privet Drive. The first thing he noticed where the flashing blue lights on top of a car. As he entered the neighbourhood, Harry realized that the car was parked right by number 4.

"No…it couldn't be", thought Harry, as his stepped forwards to investigate. A policeman and a policewoman stood outside of the house, the former knocking at the door while the latter talked with someone over a walkie talkie. A few moments later, they seemed to give up on and turned back to the car. Harry took up the pace and reached the police car before they could leave. "Excuse me", he said, panting slightly from his sprint, "Can you tell me what's going on?"

The policeman looked on him with disapproval, "It is getting a bit late for you to be wondering about kid. Where are your parents?" He asked.

"They're dead so…", replied Harry, biting his lip as the air of speech passed by his still throbbing teeth, "I live with my aunt and uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley." The expressions of the two police officers immediately changed into mixtures of regret and pity. "What's happened," he demanded, not as a question but as a command.

"There's been an accident…" started the policeman but was hesitant to reveal the details of the event to a child. "For Pete's sake Harold, he'll find out soon enough, no matter how you sugar coat it", said the Policewoman and turned to face Harry. "About thirty minutes ago, a truck lost control and hit a car on the M3. The truck driver got out unharmed and called the emergency services. Vernon Dursley, identified by his car license, was found dead on the scene along with a ten-to-eleven-year-old. A woman who I assume is your aunt Petunia was found in critical condition and taken to Ashford hospital."

Harry's heart sank, he didn't think, didn't believe… "Come on, you'd better come with us until we can contact the social services. Is there anything you need from the house?"

He was only half listening, the wording of his wish, though he felt terrible about the Dursleys, he couldn't help but feel a momentary hope; if one wish had come true, couldn't have the other one come true as well? "Do you have the key?" Asked Harry, to which the policeman nodded and handed it to him, "We found it in the wreckage, though our job was to call on the house just in case there was someone present to inform of the accident. We weren't planning on searching the place."

Harry grabbed the key and opened the door. What followed was a frantic search through the rooms of the house for any sign of his parents, without result. Finally, he opened the door to his cupboard, fell upon on his bed, and cried.

"This is where you sleep?! Who sticks a kid in a place like this?" said the policewoman, entering the cupboard with her college. When she saw Harry fall upon the bed, she helped him to his feet, letting him cling to her instead of the pillow as the sponge for his tears.

"We'd better recommend a full medical check-up for child neglect, plus charges against the woman if she somehow pulls through", said the policeman darkly, as he passed by the various family portraits in the house, none of them bearing Harry's image. The three of them then left the house, got into the police car, and drove away.

* * *

The phone rang for several moments, until the small hand of a tweenaged girl picked it up, holding the book she'd been reading with the other hand with her thumb sticking in it to keep note of her current page. "Mum! It's Doctor Jerald from the hospital for you!" she shouted a short moment later.

A middle-aged woman with a bushy brown hair came down and accepted the phone with a smile as the girl returned to her book. "Hello Jerald, how are you?" She said, her initially happy expression turning sour as her friend explained the situation. "That's horrible, what a poor boy, of course we'd be happy to help in any way we can. Yes, I think we can squeeze in a check-up for him tomorrow, I will call you after I've gone over our schedule. It's no trouble, goodbye for now."

The woman put down the phone and searched the drawer below it, "Darling, do you know where the appointment schedule is?" she asked, a brown-haired man with a somewhat lighter shade then her own came from the kitchen with a thick note book. "Sorry love, I left by the stove while I was waiting for the dough to be ready." He said, transferring the schedule to his wife's care, and then turned to girl with a smile, "How are your new magic books then? Anything interesting?" He asked.

His daughter nodded an affirmative, with a big grin on her face "Oh, they are wonderful! Apparently, Hogwarts has an enchanted sealing bewitched to look like the sky outside, I can't wait to see it!" Her father laughed, but then quieted down as he noted his wife's concern. "What's the matter?" He asked, his wife brought down the schedule with a frown.

"Jerald called from the hospital, he said that he had an abused orphaned ten-year-old boy for a check-up. Apparently, he was neglected by his caretakers for quiet a while, and more recently, got into a fight where he was hit in the chin and lost a tooth."

The man thought of the possible implications, "It's a bit late in the day, but we can still hope the tooth he lost was a primary and that no serious damage was done to the others." The woman nodded to her husband, "And that his gum wasn't infected", she added, "The trouble is that we don't have a single window to put him in tomorrow, and Jerald wants him to be seen to as soon as possible."

Their daughter suddenly perked up from her reading, "I could go straight to the clinic after school, then you could see him instead of taking the time to drive me home", she suggested.

The couple thought of the idea, they didn't like the thought of their only daughter leaving school on her own, but then again, she was almost twelve years old, responsible for her age, and the distance from the school to the clinic wasn't very great. "Alight," said the woman, "but please be careful, Hermione, there are all sorts of people out on the streets these days."

Hermione shook her head and took out a carefully crafted wooden stick from her school bag "Not to worry mum, the books say we are allowed to use our wands for self-defence, and I think I know a spell that will do the trick!"

* * *

**Note of the Amateur: **

This is a rewrite of an earlier story I wrote under the title of "Harry Potter and the Magical Commune." For reasons that seemed good to me, I decided to change my main character from an OC I was having difficulty dealing with, to Harry Potter and a more canonistic cast. Original characters will still feature heavily in this story, but the main characters will be Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and to a lesser extent Albus Dumbledore.

As I do not expect to include gore, sexual intercourse, or so help me particularly potty language, this story is designated as T for Teenager. There will be violent events, that though they are not technically M for Mature, might prove to be at least emotionally disturbing. I hope this does not prove to be the case and ask to be informed should members of the audience think the story warrants an M so that I might reassess the designation.

My posting schedule for future updates will generally be ether Tuesdays or Fridays, and I expect to produce an update every one or two weeks. That being said, I am a very busy student, and I have another active story to attend to, so I cannot guarantee it at this time.

Thank you for your patronage,

**_A Lover of Nature._**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling and any organization empowered by her to that effect own the Harry Potter title and its related products. Moreover, I consider that Carthage must be destroyed.


	2. Chapter 2: Petunia's Apology

**Chapter 2: "Petunia's Apology."**

"Hmm…", said the doctor for the umpteenth time he examined Harry's eyes. The boy sat still on the bed, twitching at the various tests he was asked to perform. He'd never been to a doctor's appointment this long, come to think of it, Harry couldn't remember the last time he had been to see a doctor, if he'd ever seen one at all.

"Hmm…" repeated the doctor once again, "can you please open your mouth? Yes, wide open…like so…excellent", said the doctor as he prodded Harry's gums with his utensils, much to the boy's lingering discomfort.

At long last, the doctor retreated to his desk seemingly satisfied with the results. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, he'd been poked and prodded quite enough thank you very much.

"Well, you are somewhat malnourished, but otherwise healthy as far as a boy your age is concerned." He announced from behind his computer, which wasn't exactly news to Harry. "You'll need specialist care regarding your teeth and eyes I am afraid, that injury and those cheap glasses simply won't do. I can arrange an appointment with an optometrist for next Monday, as for your teeth however, hmm…, I wonder…"

The doctor picked up the phone and dialled a number, "Hello Hermione, could I please speak with your mother? Yes, I'll hold." He said, as Harry took the que to put on his brand-new blue shirt, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric on his flesh when compared with Dudley's ever stingy hand-me-downs. His brow twitched, he didn't want to think about Dudley.

"_Why not?" _Said a dissenting voice at the back of his head, _"He is dead, never a whale more justly beached I'd say." _

"I hope it isn't too much of a problem…oh thank you, goodbye." The doctor put down the phone with a clink, bringing Harry out of his dark line of thinking. "I've managed to arrange an appointment with a dentist clinic I'm familiar with on the 25th, tomorrow." He said and turned to the social worker sitting by the door, "I will call you later today with the details of both appointments."

"Can I see Aunt Petunia now?" Asked Harry, tired of the social worker's variations on the word no.

"I don't think that would be suitable", started the social worker, but the doctor cut her off, "I don't see any harm in it, we've done all we can, and I very much doubt she can abuse the boy in her condition." The social worker reluctantly acquiesced and accompanied Harry to the intensive care ward.

The sight that greeted Harry was not of his stern never smiling (at him) aunt, but of bandages and tubes. Beneath the array of medical interments, Petunia's chest still rose with the intake of air. "I think we should leave them to make their peace", said the doctor, almost physically dragging the social worker out of the room. For the moment at least, Harry and Petunia remained alone.

Harry didn't move to begin with, opting to observe each intake of breath, and the release that followed. After a few seconds of this, a drop of water fell upon Petunia's check, Harry looked up at the air conditioning system, and only shortly thereafter realized that he was the source of the tears. "I am sorry aunt Petunia, I did not…I did mean for this to happen, but it wasn't what I wanted, not anymore."

A hand crept over his own, Harry looked down and saw that Petunia, while her eyes remained shut, seemed to be trying to say something. Unable to hear her, he closed the distance between them, until he could feel the slight disturbances of breathing caused by the escaping air from the machine.

"... every time I looked into his eyes, I saw you. I knew that sooner or later, he'd be going to that school, he'd become part of your world, and I would soon be forgotten amidst the countless wonders. I could not go through that again, I dared not love him, and did everything I could to push him away. I am sorry..." With these words spoken, her mouth stilled, though her breath continued in its steady pace of decline.

_Petunia Dursley née Evans, born 8__th__ of October 1958, died 25__th__ of June 1991, a loving wife and mother. _

Harry placed the Lilies at the foot of the temporary wooden cross, that would eventually be replaced by a permeant tombstone. Two other graves, one large, and one small flanked his aunt in both directions. Marge wept by Dudley's grave, and even Ripper was strangely subdued for such a violent dog. "Goodbye Aunt Petunia," said Harry, and passed Marge by without a word. At the edge of the graveyard a workman was busy digging up a fresh grave, for death could only be destroyed when there was no body left to bury.

* * *

"Order, Order!" bellowed Albus Dumbledore, stunning his audience, unaccustomed to the old professor raising his voice. "Please, we are all very busy wizards, witches…"

"And squibs!" added an elderly looking woman dressed in muggle clothes, invoking an expression of outrage from the witch dressed in pink.

Dumbledore coughed slightly, "Yes, you are quite right Mrs. MacKinnon, and squibs. Surely we can discuss this matter without resorting to petty name calling?" Everyone appeared suitably admonished, even Lucius Malfoy, had the decency to at least pretend to be bashful.

"Now then, Mr. Malfoy, could you please explain the board's objection to the use of the Hogwarts allowance for this purpose?"

Mr. Malfoy stood, striking a pose as one hand held his draconian looking cane, and the other a sheet of calculations marked confidential. "Given the growing calls on the public purse since the early 1970's, we feel that supporting so many new students would place a greater weight on the allowance than it could reasonably be expected to bear."

"Than why don't we simply increase the allowance?" Asked Pius Thicknesse, head of the department of education. Lucius brought down his papers and smirked ever so slightly, "Given the complicated nature of the calculations involved in the allowance, I suggest that this question be differed to committee, and once it has met to discuss the full range of implications, we can reconvene…"

"At a later date," finished Madam Bones with a resigned sigh. "Since we cannot count on the allowance to equip the children for their studies, I have asked Gringotts…"

"No, absolutely not, we are not taking a loan from those cretins, do you not recall what happened the last time the Ministry of Magic took a loan from Gringotts?" said Lucius.

Bones clenched her teeth in frustration "Nine years of constant warfare and another three after the peace treaty, we where at the same O-level class in History of Magic Lucius, as you very well know. What I was about to say, before I was interrupted, was that Gringotts agreed to direct the assets of the well to do parents into a shared trust vault. The ministry will pay the debt to the affected children directly, with no middle-goblins, in a five-year instalment plan, guaranteeing the integrity of the affected children's inheritance by the time they are legally old enough to use it."

Lucius stared and Bones, who stared right back at him, and then sat down with a huff, "No further objections", he said, and seemed to lose all interest in the proceedings.

"Miss Umbridge, you are recognized" announced Dumbledore.

The woman dressed in pink rose and spoke, "I would like to turn this meeting's attention to the fact that since its creation, the Improper Use of Magic Office has addressed more complaints to the Edgar Bones Home for Magical Children than any other wizarding establishment. Based on existing data, I can only speculate that once the children begin formal education in magic, this rate might increase".

"That is a complete misrepresentation!" shouted Edith MacKinnon, much to the previous speaker's annoyance. "Most of the children are under eleven and thus cannot be expected to be in control of their abilities, and of the two children currently students at Hogwarts, we received only one warning for improper use of magic, well within the bounds of the law."

"Besides," said Madam Bones, "Isn't your concern exactly what your office is here to monitor?"

Umbridge stilled for a moment, but then summond sweet smile to her lips "of course Madam Bones, you are absolutely right, and I am sure my successor, Mrs. Chang ,will do so most thoroughly." she finished, though everyone translated her words to mean 'once I am undersecretary to the minister, you won't be able to order me around anymore.'

"Well, I think this meeting has proved most fruitful," said Dumbledore, but than paused, "Mr. Crouch, is there anything you would like to add?"

The Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation seemed taken aback at the question, as if he hadn't expected his self-invitation to the meeting to require him to speak in it. "Yes, of course," he said hurriedly, "Several magical governments have expressed their interest in the child home, and we might expect foreign delegations to it in the future. I think that this could build a strong case for international legislation on the subject of orphaned muggle-born children and their care in the magical world."

"Thank you, Mr. Crouch. Well, I for one think it is high time we adjourn, thank you and a safe journey home to you all."

The attendees dispersed, Lucius, Thickness, and Umbridge headed straight for the fireplace, MacKinnon retrieved a broom and headed for the window, while Bones waited to speak with Dumbledore. Mr. Crouch remained seated, alternating his eyes from his pocket watch, to some unseen development at the office entrance.

"Edith, you do realize that you do not have to fly all the way back England? Madam Bones or I could take you back home" said Dumbledore. The elderly woman looked at him and huffed in indignation, "I might be a squib Albus, but the broom is magical," she said, and sored into the air.

Albus shook his head in good humor, "thank you for attending Madam Bones." Bones nodded but looked at the vanishing figure of the pink lady, "You are welcome, when I heard she was coming, I suddenly developed a window in my schedule."

"Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Flamel is here for his appointment", announced professor McGonagall as she entered the office.

The current headmaster turned to thank his college, when he suddenly became very still, an expression of terror appearing on his face. "Albus!" Shouted McGonagall rushing to his side, "are you alright?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "forgive me Minerva, but I am most assuredly not all right, I fear that something terrible has happened to Petunia Dursley, the bond of blood has collapsed." McGonagall paled, "you mean to tell me, that Harry Potter, the boy who lived, is completely alone and defenceless in the muggle world?! How did this happen, I thought you said Mrs. Figg was watching him!"

"That is a question I would very much like an answer to myself, but this is not the time for recriminations, we have a ten-year-old boy to save," replied Dumbledore and turned to head of magical law enforcement. "Madam Bones, can we count on the assistance of the aurors?" The ministry official nodded "of course, but do not think I won't be asking difficult questions once this crisis is over. Do you know where the boy might be?"

Dumbledore turned to a drawer in his desk, and much to Amelia's surprise, took out a very muggle looking phone. "How did you get that thing to work here?" Asked Madam Bones, so strong was her curiosity, that she almost forgot the emergency they were in.

"With great difficulty," replied Dumbledore as he dialled a number. The three of them, and Mr. Crouch, waited for a few moments, until Dumbledore put down the phone with a frown. "Mrs. Figg isn't answering my call, I cannot say with any certainty where Mr. Potter might be."

"Can you write down a general area of reference and possible locations? We can then begin an organized search." Dumbledore did as Madam Bones suggested and handed it to her. "That is quite a big area to search, assuming he isn't in his relative's household, I won't be able to get enough aurors on the case quickly enough to do it."

"I will summon the rest of the staff", said McGonagall as Madam Bones and Dumbledore rushed to the fireplace to arrange the search, with the latter stopping by the entrance to his office, "Mr. Crouch, please remain here for a few minutes and keep your ear open for the phone, inform me immediately of any news should a squib called Mrs. Figg return my call."

Mr. Crouch did as he was told, and sure enough, a few minutes later the phone rang. Mr Crouch clumsily brought the device to his ear, and talked to it, "Hello? No, Dumbledore left to search for him, this is Mr. Crouch from the Ministry, he asked me to take note of anything you had to report on the situation." He said, as he noticed the sudden appearance of a white feather falling from no discernible source. He turned his attention back to a piece of parchment and scribbled the address he was given. "What is a dentist? I see, I will inform him right away, thank you."

Mr. Crouch than proceeded to leave the office in a great hurry, a departure noted only by a pair of two particularly old eyes. Rather than following Madam Bones and Professor Dumbledore to the auror office, he used the floo network to travel to the Crouch family estate. Once there, he rushed to the kitchen counter, put down the note with the address, and poured a generous measure of firewhisky into an empty glass, which he proceeded to drink in a single sip.

"I told you to come back in thirty minutes! what took you so long!" he demanded of the empty air.

A sniffing sound could be heard in the otherwise empty room, a house elf emerged from the invisibility cloak, a young man stood in a trance behind her. "Young master wanted to see his old Hogwarts house, but Winkey lost young master in the dungeons. Winkey looked and looked, and when she found young master, she came back as old master said, because old master said so."

Mr. Crouch ignored the elf's grovelling and took out his wand, "imperio" he whispered, causing the young man to suddenly smile as if he were the king of the world. "You will forget everything you heard in Dumbledore's office, you will not seek out Harry Potter, you will stay away from him and remain close to Winkey in the future".

With the spell done, Mr. Crouch started to move towards the bottle, but Winkey soon took over, and poured him another glass, spilling several drops of liquid as her hands shook.

"I won't take him to visit Hogwarts again, I know what I promised her, but its too dangerous. Besides, you didn't see their faces, 'old Berty trying to push himself into the lamplight again', that's what they where thinking, pathetic, to think this is what my career has come to", said Mr. Crouch, sipping his fire whisky. "I'd better deliver this note to Dumbledore. See to it that the boy doesn't cause any more trouble."

Mr. Crouch walked towards the fireplace, but he only managed five steps until he collapsed. Blood seeped out of his throat, and his eyes bulged in horror at the sight before him. His voice failed him, and soon after, he was dead.

A small grey elvan hand reached out for his wand and the discarded note, but as it retrieved them, the hand swelled in size, until it became pinkish white and distinctly human.

* * *

**Note of the Amateur: **

Against expectations, I managed to produce what I consider enough material to constitute a chapter in twenty-four hours. Like its predecessor, this chapter was supposed to be longer, but the last scene was proving particularly difficult to write.

As I intend to volunteer during election day in my country, I won't have time to complete the chapter on Tuesday, and thus, I have decided to post what I have ready now and incorporate the last scene of this chapter into my plans for chapter three.

I apologize to those that were looking forward to seeing Hermione and guarantee she will feature heavily in the next chapter, and in many others to come.

Thank you for your patronage,

_**A Lover of Nature.**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling and any organization empowered by her to that effect own the Harry Potter title and its related products. Moreover, I consider that Carthage must be destroyed.


	3. Chapter 3: The Death Eater Attacks

**Chapter 3: "The Death Eater Attacks."**

"Excuse me, do you know the directions for the Granger dental clinic?"

"Certainly ma'am," said the policeman, "take the next turning left, and go straight until you reach Death's Hand Crossing, that's the local pub, the clinic is a few minutes walking from there."

The social worker offered her thanks and prepared to lead Harry to his appointment, but the boy remained still, gazing at the policeman "Excuse me sir, but would you mind telling me why you are dressed differently from other police officers?" He asked, producing a smile from the bobby, that seemed to appreciate the interest in his line of work. Harry had noted the difference many times before, but he had never given it much thought.

"That would be because I am a police constable, William Fraser, at your service" replied the policeman, causing Harry to frown. "But what is the difference between a police constable and a police officer?" he asked, trying to clarify the terms. "They are spelled differently," replied the policeman with a wink and walked away, leaving a very baffled youngster behind.

A small giggle broke the silence, Harry turned and saw a girl roughly his own age with bushy brown hair and a plain blue school bag standing nearby. "It was a word game," explained the girl amidst her laughter, "a constable is a type of police officer, the terms can be used interchangeably, or in reference to a specific rank. You asked him what the difference was, he answered that the terms are spelled differently, because that was the difference!"

Harry nodded cautiously, he got the joke now, but wondered how a school girl his age just happened to eat that part of the dictionary that seemed designed to service one specific joke. The social worker broke the silence with a cough, "We'd better get moving Harry, your appointment with the dentist begins in fifteen minutes, the traffic jam on our way took a fair bit of time off our schedule."

The girl perked up at these words, "are you by any chance on your way to the Granger clinic?" she asked, prompting nods to the affirmative from the boy and his caretaker. The girl beamed with pride, "that's my parents' practice! They said they had to make room for an emergency appointment, a young boy with an injury…" she said, observing the bruised skin on Harry's chin, "I presume that's you, I said they could do it instead of taking the time to pick me up from school. Mrs. Fletcher the science teacher was ill, so my classes ended early, so I decided to stick around by the bus station for a short while, so that I could help you with directions if you came by this way. Come on! I will lead you to the clinic!" She said, grabbing Harry's hand, and thereby forcing the social worker to follow in their footsteps.

With the girl's knowledge of the area and her energy to boot, the trio made short work of the distance to the clinic, and soon went inside. "…mum and dad where at med school together, both studied dentistry, trust me you will love them, they are great at their job", said the girl, finishing her uninterrupted ten-minute monologue. A sudden look off embarrassment appeared on her face "Oh, how ill mannered of me, I didn't introduce myself; I am Hermione Granger, and you are?"

"Harry Potter?!" announced a somewhat elderly voice with alarm, the so named boy was likewise surprised at the sight of Mrs. Figg as she left the operating room on top of a pair of crutches and a cast up leg packed full of cat drawings. "You are Harry Potter?!" exclaimed Hermione, much to Harry's bemusement, how would she have heard about him, and how would that knowledge matter to anyone?

"What are you doing here, who are you?" Asked, demanded more like, Mrs. Figg, sending a particularly suspicious gaze at his social worker. "I am Elisabeth Asprey, I am the social worker assigned to Mr. Potter's case in light of his aunt and uncle's recent passing", replied the social worker, not batting an eyelid at the obvious hostility, as she was seemingly accustomed to such reactions.

Mrs. Figg seemed at a loss for words, "recent passing… do you mean to say that the Dursleys are dead? How, When, is their child alright?"

Mrs. Asprey shook her head sadly, "The three of them died in a car crash a few days ago, though Mrs. Dursley remained alive but in critical condition until yesterday evening. The funeral was held today, Mr. Dursley's sister prepared her brother and nephew's funeral arrangements beforehand, and considering Mrs. Dursley condition, she made ready for the worse. Mrs Dursley was thus buried this morning alongside her husband and son."

Mrs. Figg seemed to turn ghostly pale, as if she where expecting an imminent catastrophe. "I was only discharged from hospital today, that blasted doctor insisted I go have my teeth examined as part of my parole; I had no way of knowing" she said, as if she were rehearsing her defence in a court of law. The middle-aged to elderly woman then bolted on top of her crutches with a speed that seemed unhealthy for someone that had just broken her leg, mumbling something about a phone call, leaving five bewildered pairs of eyes behind.

Two adults, clearly akin to the younger girl stood by the operation's room door, gazing at the direction of their previous patient. "Well, she certainly appears to be on the mend", declared the man with a forced chuckle. "You must be Mr. Harry Potter, hmm, it's rather odd, but I could have sworn I heard your name somewhere," said the woman, and then turned to notice the imminent verbal flood of questions her daughter seemed to be desperate to let slip.

"Hermione dear, I understand if you want to get to know your new friend, but we must first see to his appointment, you can talk once we are finished", said Mrs. Granger. Hermione nodded her compliance, ever the helpful daughter, but seemed to be oddly transfixed at Harry's forehead, as if she was looking for something, until the very moment the operation's room doors closed.

The operation lasted around about forty five minutes, the Grangers discovered that Harry had unfortunately lost a permeant tooth, and that while his gum was not presently infected, the couple still took measures to clean up the wound left by Dudley's fist to prevent such an infection from emerging, and then finished the treatment with a routine check-up that Harry, like his doctor's appointment, didn't have any memory of ever attending.

"…well, that about does it, fortunately, you won't require a dental bridge, as this case does not require such measures, though you might want to consider a filling in the future." Said Mrs. Granger.

A small light knock on the door could be heard, "come in", said Mrs. Granger, and the door opened, revealing the rather worried face of his daughter. "I am sorry for interrupting, but there is a hooded man outside that is demanding to see Harry Potter, Lucy hasn't yet returned from her break to receive him, so I thought you ought to know, I don't like it, I think it has something to do with the magical world." Said Hermione, a warning her parents seemed to heed with more seriousness than Harry would have ever imagined possible for such a ludicrous claim.

A scream, and an ominous green light retroactively informed the Grangers that their receptionist had indeed returned from her break. The hooded man stood with a black cloak, and a strange looking stick in hand that seemed to bring as much horror to the faces of the Grangers as with the seriousness they had given their daughter's warning a short while ago. The hood and cloak obscured the man's features, though his body shape and voice clearly indicated that he was most likely male.

"Harry Potter, I know you are in this place at this ordained time, come out, you cannot hide from me" said the hooded man, but Harry was transfixed in his place by a primeval fear that told him that obeying the man's command would be a bad idea. Hermione seemed even worse struck by the fear of the stranger than he was, as if she somehow knew more about what was going on and understood why fear in this occasion was more than justified.

A bunch of strange words that sounded suspiciously like Abra Kadabra heralded the coming of a second green light that hit Mrs. Asprey the social worker square in the chest, quickly forcing her down into a motionless state uninterrupted by even the slightest breath of air. A distant memory of a half-forgotten dream flashed through Harry's mind, he'd seen this green light somewhere before, and though he did not know what it meant, he knew that it was bad, very, very, bad.

"Very well Harry Potter, if you won't come out here, I will kill every last muggle that infests this place until none remain for you to hide behind" declared the hooded man, as he stepped over Mrs. Asprey's body towards the operating room.

Harry tried to step towards the man, desperate to prevent a similar fate from happening to the Grangers, who had been so kind to him, but Mr. Granger stopped him in his tracks. "No Harry, this is our establishment, and therefore our responsibility. Florence, phone the police, I will try to keep him busy until you get through," he said, leaving no time for his wife and daughter to protest his decision.

The hooded man greeted his new challenger with his stick, "Tell me where Harry Potter is, I have waited far too long for this moment to spoil it by hunting hapless muggles!"

"Mr. Potter is in my care, this is a medical establishment, if you have questions of my charge, you will address them to me," said Mr. Granger, his hands shaking, though he did not back down. The blue-black colours of a police constable uniform quietly lurking outside the clinic spoke volumes of Mr. Granger's intentions, though Harry somehow instinctively knew their efforts would not end well.

The stranger put down his stick and let out a howler of deranged laughter and the sight of a muggle that had the guts to stand up to him. The police constable used as his opportunity to spring into action, breaking through the glass with his baton to overpower what he fought was an armed assailant in a surprise attack. Just as Harry suspected, the hooded man soon brought the police officer down with his death ray. When Mr. Granger tried to exploit the stranger's distraction to disarm him, he was struck first the hooded man's fist, and then froze when he came face to face with the clearly lethal stick.

"No, no that won't do at all", said the stranger, and then whispered a word that made Harry's skin crawl "Crucio". Mr. Granger's screams seemed to go on and on, leaving no pause for words, no room for respite; just plain torture. "I do not want to cause you pain, but I will do it, for the Dark Lord I will pay any price, bear any burden. All I ask is that you tell me where Harry Potter is!", said the stranger, and continued Mr Granger's torture.

Florence rushed to her husband's side, shouting for the stranger to stop, but the stranger spoke the words "Avada Kedavra", and Mrs Granger was soon felled by the green light, and turned deathly still.

Beyond the stranger's sight, a small figure shouted "Mum!" and rushed to her blue school bag, pulled out a vaguely similar looking stick, and with tears in her eyes and a trembling voice, shouted a word as if her life depended on it, "Flipendo!".

The stranger was suddenly violently pushed back by an invisible force, smashing him against the wall, and then causing him to fall to the ground. Mr. Granger was set free from his tournament and fell to the ground, still twitching from the pain. Bolstered by her success, Hermione seemed well on the way to casting another word of power, but her stick was suddenly blasted out of her hand.

The stranger stood up, with his weapon at the ready. The cloak and hood where gone, revealing a hideous sight; the man, or at least, what seemed to be a man had patches of pale white and grey skin, one half of his head had a smart well-groomed her cut, while the other half was clean shaven, his eyes where yellow and excessively large, while his ears seemed to come straight out of a fairy tale from some sort of elven creature. The face overall however remained distinctly human, as if some force had randomly attached the anomalous features to an otherwise normal adult male body.

"A mud-blood amongst the muggles, how very curious. It seems that the old bat on the phone was right, Harry Potter is here, his 'friends' are with him. The Polyjuice potion was never meant for use with none-humans. Fortunately, the vile I stole from Snape's office managed to take on the shape of my father's sorry excuse for a house elf just long to poison him and get all the information I needed. With that in mind, I do not mind these side effects, they are merely the mark of how far I am willing to go." Said the stranger, and then turned his wand against Hermione once more, "Now then little mud-blood, let us hear you scream."

Harry could not remain idle any longer and bolted from his place of safety in the operating room, "Leave her alone! I am Harry Potter, if you must hurt someone, hurt me!"

A short silence ensued, while the stranger seemed to observe his quarry with reverence. The man then took several frenzied steps towards Harry, the boy closed his eyes in preparation for a blow that never came. Instead, the stranger merely brushed aside his disorganized locks of hair and revealed his scar. "Yes, that is the place the curse struck on that dreadful day", mumbled the stranger, "I must be cautious, if the Dark Lord's spell rebounded, who is to say what would happen to me if I cursed the boy?"

The stranger returned his wand to Hermione, who let out a short scream of pain as Harry vainly tried to physically charge the man, only to be rebuffed by an invisible force. "That was but a small taste of what I might do if you do not cooperate. The girl is not yet permanently damaged, but that might not remain the case. Now tell me, where is the Dark Lord!"

Harry paled, "I don't know anything about a dark lord, who are you, what are you talking about?!"

A second, slightly longer cry came from Hermione, who could no longer remain standing on her feet from the pain. "The Cruciatus curse, if applied long enough on any one individual can cause even the strongest of wizards and witches to lose their minds. I have seen it happen, the Longbottom's were as strong as they came, but even they didn't survive Bella's displeasure with their minds intact. Alas, I might have over done it with the muggle; they are rather fragile little things. Don't let your young friend here share the same fate. I will ask again, where is Lord Voldemort!"

Harry knew that no answer her could provide would satisfy the stranger, but he couldn't simply let him go on torturing Hermione, he owed the Grangers that much at least for all they had suffered on his behalf.

"_Foolish child! Use your power! Cast aside your fists, they are mere flesh, bone and sinews, and not your real strength. Forget your life as a muggle; you where never a part of their world and fighting as they do in this one will only get us killed. Do what you did to the Dursleys, destroy your enemy."_

Harry remembered, he did have that strange power, if he could do what the boy said he could, he would be able to save both himself and Hermione from the stranger. But did he dare use this that dreadful power again? Could he control it?

"I grow tried of waiting Harry Potter, do you require your little mud-blood friend to provide a reminder of why you should make haste to answer my questions?" Said the stranger, bringing his wand back to Hermione. Harry's decision was thus made for him, he closed his eyes and tried to summon that mysterious power once more. A startled cry from the stranger forced his eyes open, but the source of his enemy's displeasure was not of Harry's making.

An old clean-shaven man with white heir held the stranger's wand in his hands. How it came to be there Harry couldn't say, but what he now hoped was that without this apparently important weapon, the stranger would be unable to hurt the Grangers any further. A second elderly man with a long beard and several other people dressed in old-fashioned clothes burst through the clinic's doors, overpowering the disarmed stranger.

"Who is it!?" demanded on of their party, trying to make out the distorted features of the stranger.

"I think It's Crouch Junior, but how is that possible, he should be dead!"

The bearded man sighed, "Apparently news of his death was premature, we shall investigate exactly how this came about in time." He then turned his attention to Harry, "Are you alright Harry? Did Crouch harm you in any way?" Harry quickly shook his head "No, he never touched me sir, but Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs Granger, they've been hurt!"

The old clean-shaven man was already at Hermione's side, though the girl was well past tears and almost delirious. "The girl is in great pain, but the curse was not placed on her long enough to cause permeant damage, so long as she is treated immediately, she will recover. The man, while physically he should heal in time, I cannot vouch for his health of mind. I fear that the three women are dead, and even my elixir would prove impotent against that fact."

One of the members of the company picked up a discarded wooden stick from the edge of the room, "Is this wand yours Mr. Potter?" Harry shook his head, but noted the name of the tool, clearly Hermione's earlier claims about magic where not misplaced. "No, it belongs to Hermione, the girl, she tried to fight off the man, but he was too quick."

The bearded man sighed "To think that a prospective student from the muggle world should experience her first wonders of our world thus. Evacuate both the girl and the man to St Mungo's, if the staff refuse to treat the man because he is not of our world, you may convince them otherwise in any way you see fit, I will assume personal responsibility for the consequences."

Hermione and Mr. Granger where both held by members of the bearded man's party, the man identified as Crouch was restrained by the rest, and suddenly all vanished into thin air, leaving only the bearded man and Harry alone in the clinic. The man turned his attention back to Harry, and offered his hand, which Harry refused to accept, unable to trust these people with strange powers that had caused so much harm in such a short span of time

"I understand Harry…Mr. Potter, if you are afraid, it is only natural that you be so in your circumstances. There is much you do not yet know, and even more that I must tell you, but this is not the place for such a conversation. My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I ask that you trust me, if only for a short while, so that we may retire to a place of safety. Once this is done, you may distrust and despise me with all your heart, and I would not think the less of you for doing so. Please accept my hand so that I may complete the spell that will remove us from this place. I assure you, that the bodies of the dead will be honoured, and perhaps in time this clinic will once again become a place of healing rather than death, but at this moment in time, staying here places you in great danger of which you are only starting to become aware."

Harry gazed at the elderly man; he didn't know him, he didn't trust him, but he didn't have much choice. Tentatively, Harry reached out for the hand that was offered, and shortly thereafter, the two of them where gone.

* * *

**Note of the Amateur: **

As usual, this chapter could have been longer, but as this scene is already much more extensive than I expected, and thus, I opted to post it as it is rather than push forwards into the next one. I can already see that like my other story, my chapters are gradually becoming longer, so I presume that I will at some point find the length I am most comfortable with per chapter.

I know that this chapter was rather horrific, I certainly did not enjoy writing it, and suspect that this lack of enthusiasm on my part for certain aspects of it probably weakens the impact of the events described with misplaced gallows humour and an all to brief description of events as they occur. I presume that this is my way of coping with these sorts of scenes, though I will hopefully learn to handle them better in the future.

All I can say is, as Dumbledore told Harry at the end of the chapter, that there are many things I want to tell in this story, but this is not the place or the time. I know that it is all necessary for this story, and that should be enough. I said that Hermione would be a major character in that story, and I will deliver on that promise, though it is only natural if her personality changes due to her radically different experiences, just as Harry is changing.

27/04/19 - Edit: I changed a few of the lines about Mrs. Granger to make her death a clear and done affair, as one reader justify pointed out that the wording of that event was somewhat muddled.

Thank you for your patronage,

_**A Lover of Nature.**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling and any organization empowered by her to that effect own the Harry Potter title and its related products. Moreover, I consider that Carthage must be destroyed.


	4. Chapter 4: The House of Magic

**Chapter 4: "The House of Magic."**

The two of them reappeared moments later elsewhere, Harry almost fell to his knees at nausea he felt from this form of travel, but Dumbledore seemed no worse for wear. "First-time Side-Along Apparition can be a rather unpleasant experience I am afraid, but your discomfort should pass shortly," observed Dumbledore.

"You could have warned me about it," complained Harry, but sure enough, his strength soon returned to him, and with it, the comprehension that he had just travelled from one place to another in a flash. His new surroundings were decidedly different from the clinic they'd just left; instead of the various instruments of the dental profession, Harry now saw an old ill-kept graveyard. "Where are we, how did we get here, will Mr Granger and Hermione be OK?", he asked.

Dumbledore let go of his hand and pointed to a nearby manor house on top of the hill, "that is our destination, for security reasons, the graveyard is the only spot on the grounds of the manor house that is not protected by the Anti-Apparition Charm. We will have to walk the rest of the way. The Grangers have been taken to the hospital best suited for dealing with their injuries. They are in the capable hands of the healers now, and therefore, all we can do is hope for the best."

Harry followed Dumbledore but wondered what on earth he was talking about, but he was relieved to hear that at least Mr Granger and Hermione would receive the medical care they needed. As they passed through the graveyard, Harry's eyes drifted between tombstone to tombstone, noting that they all seemed to belong to the same family. One grave stood out from the rest, it seemed to be among the small minority of relatively new additions, but it was well-groomed from the creeping vegetation, unlike its other recent counterparts, and hosted a fresh bouquet of anemone flowers. Harry, out of curiosity, paused to take note of the inscription; "_Ilona Riddle née Ruskowski, 1948-1985, may her family know no more sorrow." _

"Come, Mr Potter, let us leave this place, you have seen far too much of death today," said Dumbledore, bringing Harry out of his thoughts and his feet back on the trail to the manor.

At first glance, the front gate seemed to hold an old rusted sign, welcoming friends and warning foes that they were now in the lands of the Riddle family. But when Harry blinked and looked again, a well-polished wooden sign had replaced the decaying metal one, bearing vibrant letters of red, yellow, blue, and green, that rearranged themselves into a different sentence, with some of them appearing to 'swallow' redundant ones, that then split into others letters when needed to form new words, until all settled into their new places;

"_Welcome to the Edgar Bones Home for Magical Children."_

Dumbledore stopped by the door and brought his wand up into the air, the effect produced by this action was a sudden and unexplained ringing of a bell inside the home. "What do people who don't have wands do if they want to get in?" Asked Harry.

"They ring the muggle bell, which has a distinctive sound of its own, or they knock, thus giving the residents of this home an indication of whether their visitor is magical or not. The first thing you must understand about magic Mr Potter that it is in almost all respects a different world from the one you know. Wizards and Witches have lived among muggles, the none-magical folk, since the dawn of human history, but for the past few centuries, our people have lived separately from the rest of humanity in order to protect ourselves, and by extension, the muggles, from the many tragedies produced by the intersection of our two societies in the past. It is a flawed system, but as in many other examples, it is the worse solution, except for all the others that have been tried."

The manor's door opened, a middle-aged man, with dark but greying hair and a goatee, stood at the entrance holding a smoking pipe. "Albus! There you are! Madam Bones arrived a few moments ago through the fireplace in my office, she is absolutely livid. I heartily recommend that you attend to her post-haste! And who is this?" he said, noticing Harry.

"I am Harry sir, Harry Potter," said Harry, and was once again surprised to witness the effect his name had on another. "I'd never…what an honour", whispered the man, but then noted Dumbledore's disapproving gaze. "Forgive me, I am Andrew Mckinnon, though most of my friends call me Andy. My wife and I are the caretakers of this house, I would introduce you to Edith, but she is somewhere between Scotland and here riding a broomstick."

Small thuds grew louder as a blond-haired girl about Harry's age descended the wooden stairs to the hall. "Uncle Andy, Tanya's toad is trying to nosh the butterflies again, I've tried talking to her, but she said that butterflies are healthy for him and didn't do anything about it!"

Andy Mckinnon sighed and turned to face his charge, "I am sorry Susan, but I am rather preoccupied with our guests, try talking to Peter, he can usually talk some sense into her, and if not, you can always ask him to send Maxentius out on air patrol." He then turned his attention back to Dumbledore and Harry, "Will Mr Potter be staying for the night, that would be a treat! Though, I expect we ought to run along to my office, before Madam Bones starts breaking them so to speak."

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, Mr Potter will be staying here tonight, would you be so kind as to show him to the spare room while Mr. Mckinnon and I pop into his office?" He asked the girl, who quickly answered to the affirmative. "I apologize, Harry," started Dumbledore, "our long overdue conversation will have to wait just a few moments longer."

"Sure, go right ahead," mumbled Harry with obvious displeasure at the delay, but how was he supposed to press the issue? He was just a kid who appeared to not even know everything about himself, and this was a man that seemed to hold all the cards in their present relationship.

When the two adults left the room, the girl turned and looked at Harry with a strange expression. "I can't reach you, but you wouldn't know the rules of the game, a verbal question will have to do. Are you one of us or one of them?"

"Sorry, what do you mean?" Asked Harry bewildered by the girl's strange choice of words. The girl rolled her eyes, "Oh, silly me, they do not always know at first. What I meant to ask is are you a norm, one of the millions living out their mundane lives, eating their over spiced fish and chips, unable to think, let alone wish the excess salt out of their meals, or are you one of us; a select few, that can make good things happen when we are happy, and bad things happen when we are either scared or angry."

Comprehension dawned upon Harry's eyes, and the girl smiled, understanding without words what had passed through his mind, "I thought you where one of us. My name is Susan Fenwick and I can usually tell who's who, though I did think Roger was a norm and that Billy was one of us at first, so it isn't 100% certain. Follow me, I will take you to the guest room, it should be ready, as we often get kids the Mckinnons aren't sure about in there."

Harry followed the girl up the stairs, noting the lively display of paintings along the walls, some of them were old and exquisite landscapes, others new and rather sloppy, clearly the work of childish hands rather than that of an artist, though most appeared to try and emulate the former.

"So, why are you worried about who is a…norm, and who isn't?" Asked Harry, still trying to get a grip over the situation.

The girl happily obliged him with an answer as she skipped from one stair to another. "There used to be a lot of norms about in the house, so our lot had to be careful with our powers. Most of them are gone, adopted by boring families, a few of our older ones were also adopted, but by weird hippies with pointed hats and funny cloaks that we think might be like us. Most of us are still here, and once Billy leaves with his new parents tonight, there will be no norms left."

The two arrived at the second floor and turned to the corner to the right that had two doors to its credit. Susan peeked inside but quickly shut the door, "ugh, Billy is sleeping there, I guess he wanted a good decent sleep in, free of Peter's endless study sessions and Tanya's explosions for a change. We'll have to find another room, can't have you sleep in one of ours until you have joined The Circle, it's not done."

Before Harry could ask what, The Circle was, Susan picked up the pace, forcing him to do the same and follow her to the third floor. The girl paused by one of the doors with a worried expression and turned to Harry, "You will have to be on the old norm floor for now, where Tanya, Billy and Peter; the older kids, currently live. Tanya and Peter are like us, but they haven't re-joined The Circle since they got back from boarding school, therefore, they can't share rooms with the rest of us for the moment. Peter is Ok, I guess, but Tanya is a bit weird, I mean, we are all weird, but not like Tanya."

A toad followed the path of the two kids from the stairway, it hopped from one place to the next and then paused by Tanya's door, that had a rather ominous black and yellow sign with the words _"Tanya's Laboratory, do not enter under pain of death!"_ The toad then hopped once, hopped twice, and then managed to hop the entire distance between the floor and the door handle, opening the door to let itself in. Shortly thereafter, the door closed, in what Harry could only assume was in much the same method as the one he'd just witnessed.

Susan seemed to be at least somewhat spooked by the experience, though not surprised by it, "Well…at least he isn't eating the butterflies anymore." She said, and then moved along the corridor to the next room and opened the door. "It's clean, but the bed is not done. I guess that I'll just have to attend to it myself. If you hear strange noises from Tanya's room, ignore them, she usually blows up only her own stuff."

Hurried thuds from the stairway announced the arrival of a dark skinned boy with what appeared to be a toy viking helmet on top of his head. The boy panted and then turned to Susan with a pointed finger. "Uncle Andy told me, to tell you..." he said, and then turned his finger to Harry, "to tell a Mr Potter that a Mr Dumbledore wants to speak with him downstairs." The finger once again returned to Susan, "Peter told me to tell you that Tanya is your problem and that Maxentius is out hunting mice and won't be hungry or stupid enough to take a bite out of Mr. Green. That's all for now."

The boy then saluted, and bolted back down the stairs, leaving his counterpart resident to explain what had happened. "That's Roger, he and Jim lost a game to Daisy and Norbert last Circle, so he has to be everyone's messenger for a week. I think he got off easy, Jim got Poseidon, eh..that means he needs to clean the dishes. You can go downstairs if you like, I will stay behind to make the bed."

* * *

"I figured that you would run along back here with Mr Potter to avoid the aurors when they arrived. I had the sense to apparate back to the ministry and then take the flu in order to beat you here to make sure you didn't get off that easily." Said Madam Bones as Albus Dumbledore entered the office.

"If you were an ordinary wizard Albus, this conversation would have been held in an interrogation chamber, and you would most likely be facing half a dozen charges. But since you happen to be the most powerful wizard of the age, capable of escaping every dungeon and evading any auror, allow me to rephrase this conversation into a somewhat more practical tone; WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN WERE YOU THINKING?!"

Dumbledore raised his hands as a show of peace, "Amelia, please be reasonable, you know perfectly well what would have happened had I left Harry Potter's fate up to the Wizengamot. The Malfoys might not have the only distant familial claim on the boy, but they certainly have the resources and the allies to back it. By leaving him in the Muggle World, with his family, I not only made such a claim impossible, but I also provided Harry with a magical defence even stronger then Hogwarts!"

"But that protection failed Albus! I've just returned from the Clinic you and your staff so kindly left deserted without even as much a note! I saw the bodies!" replied Bones.

Dumbledore paused for a moment, and turned to Mr. Mckinnon, "Andy, would you be so kind as to fetch us something to drink? Preferably strong." Andy nodded and looked at Bones, who shook her head, "nothing for me, I am on duty." With the squib out of the room, the two powerful sorcerers continued their conversation.

"You are right Amelia, the plan did fail, a chain of unlikely events caused a situation I could not predict, for which I take full responsibility. I ask you, however, to consider the alternatives; I could not raise Mr. Potter in Hogwarts, the school is an authority on to its own, it would not tolerate a child under the age of eleven calling it home, let alone any such child staying over the summer. The founders, even Slytherin, wanted to give the students the most equal playing field possible to give merit at least a chance to overcome the social connections so prevalent in our society. Even Merlin had to give up his plan to raise Arthur in the castle because of the enchantments the founders left in place. I, for my part, could not keep a boy who begged to be allowed to stay in the castle, if I had been able to do so back then, it is quite possible we would not be holding this conversation in the present…."

"You could have discussed the matter with the Ministry! interrupted Bones, "I admit that I am also at fault, I didn't question you, I chose to trust you. Had I known what you were doing, I would have told them. We might not be perfect, but at least we have the resources to guarantee Harry's safety!"

"The resources to do what, I ask you?!" challenged Dumbledore, "Throughout the Wizarding War, the ministry had more people, more funds, and more public support than the Death Eaters ever did, and yet the ministry, in all its wisdom, allowed the crisis to go completely out of control! Had I not established the Order; Voldemort would have taken over long before his fall from power."

Madam Bones twitched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name but seemed more angered by it then fearful. "And what did the Order of the Phoenix have to show for its heroics? Most of the orphans that call this place home do so because their parents died in your service, and I suggest you remember that fact before you boast about it!"

The door to the office opened, revealing Mr. and Mrs Mckinnon, the latter carrying a tray of whisky glasses. "Andy wanted to bring you some wine, but when I heard the shouting, I thought we'd better fetch something a bit stronger." Said Mrs. Mckinnion, and then turned to the fireplace, taking off what appeared to be a Second World War flying helmet and jacket, "Seeing that the two of you are here, am I to assume that you told Andy what we agreed in the meeting, or did your little party political make you forget about it? Is our partnership even still kicking?"

"Our cooperation regarding the child home is above reproach", declared Madam Bones without even pausing to think about it. She then turned to the tray and drank a glass of fire whisky in one second flat, despite her earlier pledge to the contrary. "I disagree with what you did Dumbledore, I am very angry with you, but I am aware that if you didn't know what you where doing at least some of the time, you would not have survived for as long as you have. Unfortunately, I can't say the same about most of my colleagues in the Ministry, so despite our differences, I will still back you when push comes to shove, though with the greatest reluctance. Please excuse me, I am going to visit that poor girl in the hospital, before she becomes your latest victim; the ones that you sacrifice in the name of your greater good, and then cast aside." Said Madam Bones. She then entered the fireplace and vanished into the flames.

"I never forget, I remember them all; from Ariana to the Grangers," whispered Dumbledore to himself, and then turned to speak to the Mckinnons. "Could one of you please fetch Harry?" he said, woofing down a glass of fire whisky himself. Mrs Mckinnon got up, removing the empty glasses, most of them her own, from the table, "I will get Roger to do it, apparently, it's his turn to play Hermes."

"Could you fill me in about the meeting today? Edith hasn't had the opportunity to do it yet", said Andy as the two of them waited for Mr. Potter to arrive. "It will please you to know that the ministry has finally agreed to allow us to fully integrate the home into the magical world," replied Dumbledore, invoking a pleasing hum from Mr. Mckinnon. "That is good to hear, the children already suspect that there is some sort of magical world, though Tanya and Peter kept their promise and haven't breathed a word about Hogwarts as far as I am aware. Now that we've finally found a good home for Billy, Edith and I can say for certain that all the children here are magical, so the risk factor involved in moving on to stage two is negligible. We will inform the children tomorrow and give Susan her Hogwarts letter. I do not know how you made The Quill stop sending those letters, but I am thankful, I do not think the old letter box would have survived anymore of them."

Dumbledore accepted his friend's thanks with a smile, "As I said to Amelia, the founders created Hogwarts to largely administrate itself. I sometimes feel that as headmaster, I have even less authority over the castle than I had as head boy. All I did was explain the situation to The Quill, and it agreed, albeit reluctantly, to give us a respite until July, in return for a few feathers from Fawkes's tail."

The door to the office opened once again, revealing Harry Potter. Andy Mckinnon stood up and turned to leave, "I better see to Billy's farewell party, I am afraid that the children won't cooperate unless I ask them to. They have been left to live in their own miniature magical world for far too long. Some of it, like the Circle, is innocent fun, but this business about 'Us' and 'Norms' is far too close to bigotry."

* * *

Harry and Dumbledore were thus left alone in the office, and took their seats around the table. Neither immediately spoke, the former too shy at this moment to begin, while the latter did not know what to say. "It is strange", began Dumbledore, "I have thought of this conversation for almost ten years, and yet, words fail me now that you are here. This is your moment Harry, ask any question, and I will do my best to answer it."

Harry mulled over the proposition, and soon grasped at the heart of the problem bothering him since Hermione Granger had spoken his name in reverence. "Who am I? Really? You, Mr. Mckinnon, even Hermione all say my name as if I were a hero."

Dumbledore smiled sadly, "We do so because you are a hero Harry, one of the few in fact that can truly claim that title. You are not an ordinary boy, you are first a wizard, a member of a select group of people that can wield magic, that forms a comparatively small segment of the overall human population.

Second, you performed an extraordinary service to the British magical community when you were a mere one year of age. As you witnessed today, not all wizards and witches use their power to do good, some use it to try and force others to do things against their will. Once such wizard, known as Voldemort, armed with both great magical talent and an army of loyal followers terrorized the wizarding population through murder and intimidation to such an extent, that only a few dare to speak his name.

Your parents joined the fight against Voldemort, and like many others before them, he came to your home with the intention of destroying your family, and while he did indeed kill your mother and father, when he turned his wand against you, his curse rebounded, and his body was destroyed. You are known to our world, because it is thanks to you that we all live in freedom, liberated from the fear that our lives and the lives of our loved ones might be taken at any moment. You are the boy who lived."

Harry pondered Dumbledore's words, he could barely believe them, but in light of what he had seen, he could accept that they might be true, if nothing else.

"_Ask him why you, a mere baby, was able to vanquish such a powerful sorcerer, does that make any sense to you?"_

"But sir, how…how was I able to destroy someone that was so feared and powerful?" Asked Harry, thankful that he'd managed to overcome the shock of learning of his unknown history and focus on such a central question about the mystery he might have otherwise overlooked.

Dumbledore smiled at him sadly, "Alas, that is a question that I cannot tell you, you are not old enough to learn the full truth, and there are many things that even I do not yet know".

"_He is evading the question! Do not let him hold the truth as a leash over your neck! Make him speak the truth!"_

Harry stood up in protest, the voice was right, he'd had enough of secrets being kept from him! "No, I can't accept that, you promised you would answer every question you where able, I am not asking you to tell me things that you do not know, but what you can tell me about myself, I demand that you do, I have a right to ask that much!"

Dumbledore seemed to search Harry's eyes for a few moments, but then he slowly nodded and revealed the information requested of him. "Very well Harry, I will tell you what I know. Before your birth, a prophecy, a true prophecy, which in our world is a phenomenon that is taken very seriously indeed, was spoken to me in a private consultation. It said that a child born at the end of July to parents that had resisted Voldemort three times would possess the power to destroy him. One of Voldemort's agents heard this part of the prophecy before he was removed, and thus he was made aware of the threat. Though there was another candidate that matched the terms of the prophecy other than yourself, Voldemort chose to pursue you and your family, and by so doing, fulfilled a second part of the prophecy that he did not hear. When he cursed you that night, he also marked, and thus confirmed that you would be the one with the power to destroy him."

"But Voldemort was destroyed, so wasn't this prophecy fulfilled…?"

"No Harry, Voldemort's body might have been destroyed, but as his name suggests, he was well beyond the vulnerabilities of flesh and bone by that time he called on your family. Most of the wizarding world and even his own followers assumed he died that day, but I believe he is merely weak for want of a physical body in which to manifest himself, and isolated since most of his followers respect only power, a power that he can no longer command over them to ensure their loyalty. The one who attacked you today belongs to a small clique, most of which is thankfully either dead or incarcerated, that held genuine loyalty to their master. We thought that this servant had died several years ago, but somehow, he managed to fool us all, myself included."

"_There is more, there is more, ask him, ask him!" _

No, thought Harry, I do not want to know, not yet, it was all too much. "Is there any more to this prophecy?" Asked Harry, though his tone betrayed his heartfelt desire that it would not be so.

"There is" confirmed Dumbledore, "I have a device that will allow you to hear the prophecy, word for word, as it was spoken to me all those years ago. When you feel that you are ready to hear it, come to my office in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I will make this device available to you whenever you so desire. You will receive an invitation to attend this school on your eleventh Birthday, and in light of the magical threats arrayed against you, I strongly suggest that you accept in order to learn how to wield your magical powers and prepare yourself for what is to come."

Harry accepted the offer, knowing once again that he had no other choice. Even that part of his mind that had been recently so rebellious against authority was strangely silent, as if it agreed with Dumbledore's proposition, but was too proud to admit it. With the weight of his past, and perhaps, his future temporarily allowed to lapse as an immediate cause of concern, Harry's mind turned to the second pressing question on his mind.

"What's going to happen to me now?"

* * *

The loud explosion heard by the other residents of the house was not noticeable to the two wizards as they continued their conversation. The office had been especially soundproofed to prevent the children from eavesdropping in the days when the ministry's verdict to keep the magical world secret from them prevailed. This set up worked both ways.

"Tanya, are you alright in there?!" called Andy, as he rushed from downstairs upon hearing the explosion from her chambers. "I'm fine" snapped Tanya, largely due to her own frustration than any genuine dislike of her caretaker. Reluctantly, she struggled away from the ruined pot she had used since blowing up the pot before it, and the specially constructed cauldron she had possessed...until she had melted it down on the third week of summer break.

"Snape is going to murder me this year", she thought gloomily, despairing of her inability to master his class. The girl gazed longingly at her largely self-assembled chemistry set and wondered for the millionth time why her relatively successful ventures with that mundane craft could not be replicated with its magical counterpart.

While the soft heels of the foster parent's slippers could not be heard, his resigned chuckle was not quite as subtle. "Very well, dinner will be served shortly. Please bear in mind that today is Billy's farewell party, his new parents will be coming, so try to refrain from your usual squabbles, even if he provokes you. I know that the two of you never got on, but this is the last time that you will have to," he half said, half begged, unaware that his words had gone largely unheard by their would-be recipient. Tanya, for her part, was thoroughly preoccupied with her search for any clothes she could scourge that hadn't been sullied by her failed potions experiment.

Taking in her appearance, Tanya could only cringe, she was a mess. The hair seemed roughly similar to Eastern Europe after it had been ravaged by the Mongol hordes, and her face was darker than coal. She took a moment to pass by the bathroom, wash her face, make her hair look a bit more presentable (without success), and then made her way towards the ground floor. "Sorry Mr Green," she said to the toad, who'd dutifully followed her into the bathroom and seemed intent on following her downstairs as well, "but we are hosting norms that wouldn't appreciate eating their meal with a toad." The toad, of course, didn't understand exactly what his owner was saying but knew from her tone that she did not want to be followed, and thus returned to their room.

The kitchen and dining area had been enlarged at the expense of a decommissioned dancing hall. As in many cases in the manor's modernization for its present purpose as a fostering home, several larger rooms where ether reduced in size or removed altogether. The space cleared by these actions gave way to additional bedrooms, or otherwise converted to new facilities, such as a second bathroom, a TV room, and a small study room adjacent to the old library.

"Oi, what's with the hair? New style?" mocked a brown-haired boy one year removed from Talia's twelve. The vicious thought of inflicting bodily harm on this repeat offender crossed her mind but was quickly suppressed by Mrs McKinnon's knowing gaze.

The couple that would soon become parents in the eyes of the law came in with Mr McKinnon and took their seats. Billy's behaviour suddenly transformed, from Tanya's personal devil's advocate to the living image of the perfect little child gentlemen most norms seemed to be in the market for these days. Tanya turned her attention away from the smiles and the laughter shared between the three in disgust, as did most of the other kids of the home, for they could not help but feel at least a bit envious.

Any further thoughts on the topic were lost to Andy's appeal for silence, so tapped on his tea mug with the sugar spoon. The virtue of peace thus descended upon the table. "Today, we are gathered on an occasion that is both sad, for we are losing a member of our family, yet also happy for he is leaving us to a loving home of his own with his new parents. I am sure you will all join me in wishing Billy and the Mason family all the best."

A short round of applause could be heard, though Tanya's hands were noticeably absent. A moment later, Andy once again appealed for silence and spoke, "You will also be pleased to know that while one of our number is leaving, we have also received a new member to our home during the day", he said, earning curious looks from most of the children, and a barely suppressed moan from Tanya. "I can't say if he will be a permanent resident since his situation is uniquely complicated for several reasons. None the less, I expect you to welcome him here as you would one of your own".

Tanya snorted, she couldn't simply welcome anyone as one of her own; he either was or wasn't. With that thought in her mind, she allowed herself to sip some of her juice and thought of the various ways she could make the new boy's stay unpleasant if he turned out to be yet another norm.

"Please welcome Mr. Harry Potter," announced Andy, prompting a second wave of polite clapping as the boy by that name took his seat and a rather nasty fit of coughing from Tanya as she choked on her drink.

It was impossible, it had to be, how could The Harry Potter have come to this place? During her time in Hogwarts, Tanya had always imagined the 'hero' of the magical world as a pampered little pureblood prince, she had never thought he'd be like her; an orphan with no other place to go.

Peter's eyes were similarly alight with the surprise at the identity of the 'new member of the family', but his expression soon changed from shock to a satisfied grin as their eyes met. Tanya nodded, Peter was right, at least they could be certain that the new boy would be one of them, and that the house would indeed be muggle free in the near future.

* * *

** Note of the Amateur: **

This chapter represents what I hope will be read as a comprehensive declaration of intent as to what I have in mind with this story. I have also added a brief note to the story summary to clarify exactly what elements will be involved in this story, in order to better inform potential readers of what they might expect from it. You may have noticed the many OC's, particularly the PoV of one such character at the end of the chapter. On that latter point of the PoV, it is possible that I might make use of it or others in the future, but only sparingly, and at this stage of the story, I do not expect to do ether for many months to come.

While I will make extensive use of OC's, you may rest assured that the main characters of the story will be Harry and Hermione, though the latter will take a short while to truly emerge in that role as she recovers from her trauma. As I said in the new summary, this story is AU, and by that I mean that some parts of it will exist independently from the canon material from the first instance, and other parts of it will gradually evolve in time. As this chapter was "Harry heavy", the next one will largely focus on Hermione and use her PoV. It might be some time before this is posted, as I intend to write at least one chapter for my other story, but it should be up by mid-May.

27/04/19 - Edit: I fixed some writing errors, added a few lines, and removed a few words here and there. Nothing major has been changed, but I think the edit helped flesh out a few things.

**Answers to Guest Reviews:** (Please consider using an account to post reviews in the future, as it makes answering your questions via PM possible.)

Guest Review 1: Hermione's mother did die, as I did write she was felled by a green light of the same type that killed the others. That being said, you may have a point that this death and other things I wrote might not make that perfectly clear, so I will edit a few lines accordingly in the near future (edit completed - 27/04/19). I had thought to keep the mother alive, but decided against it, as doing so would have created a situation that in my view would have been slightly too reminiscent of one that already exists in the canon material with a different character.

Hermione already has her wand because since she was born in September 1979, though after the term for that year started, which is why she is in Harry's year. She would have received her Hogwarts letter well in advance of joining the school (the letter seems to arrive at the recipient's eleventh birthday). I, therefore, assume, that it quite likely that she would have brought at least some of her school supplies quite early, if only because I cannot for a moment believe that she would not have jumped at the first opportunity to do so. It is true that she might not have received the full textbook list for her year, but that would not have prevented her from buying a wand, other routine supplies, and I suspect as many books as she could afford.

Guest Review 2 (or is it still 1?): That question will be answered in the next chapter, though I will concede that under different circumstances I would not be able to justify her attendance. I believe I left quite a big hint in my replay to Guest Review 1 that should give you an idea of what might prevent Mr Granger from pulling his daughter from Hogwarts in this instance. I am also working with the assumption that no other close familial ties exist, which is quite a convenient getaway on my part, I admit, but even I am occasionally tempted to shout, "damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" Your comment did give me an idea of how to write Hermione's initial reaction to these events from her PoV in the next chapter, and I thank you for it.

Guest Review 3: I also thought that, but from what quotes I recall from the books and the HP wiki entries, it appears that this version of the Arthurian legend was not accepted as canon by JK. While this story is an AU, and thus could easily have changed this fact to the version backed by modern historical knowledge, I suspect that JK purposely made this Medieval version of the story canon precisely because it is mythical and goes against what our "muggle" history tells us. Merlin was thus born in the years after the establishment of Hogwarts and studied under the founders in house Slytherin. I am thinking about using the discrepancy as a thread in the story that might feature as one or two plots.

Thank you for your patronage,

_**A Lover of Nature.**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling and any organization empowered by her to that effect own the Harry Potter title and its related products. Moreover, I consider that Carthage must be destroyed.


	5. Chapter 5: Hermione's Pledge

**Chapter 4: "Hermione's Pledge."**

_Where am I?_

A distant bird call from someplace behind her seemed to answer her question. A sudden gust of wind passed her by, and moment by moment, the fog lifted. A faint red sun, much the same as the one that emerges at dusk, pierced the retreating unnatural veil full of sunrays. The sun's glare momentarily blinded Hermione's eyes. As these accustomed themselves to the unexpected light, the image in front of them became clear. She was seated at the back of a small sailing ship that had one mast to its credit. The hull could have contained several dozen passengers and crew, and yet, the only other person on board was a woman dressed in a black cloak, that stood in the middle of the vessel.

_Hello? Do you know where we are?_ She asked, but her companion on this unexpected journey did not appear to hear her. Hermione stood up and tried to move towards the woman, but a sudden bout of dizziness made her lose balance. Hermione closed her eyes and gave a startled shout of warning as she tried to lean against the woman for support, but instead of meeting soft silk and skin, she fell against the hard-wooden planks with an audible thud. _Uh, that hurt, _she muttered, massaged her elbow, and then pulled herself away from the deck, and looked at the woman. Instead of a stranger, she was greeted by an all too familiar face.

_Mum?! Thank goodness you are safe! _Her voice tensed with emotion as she looked upon the parent she had thought lost. Florence Granger stood motionless with a solemn expression on her face. _Mum? It's Hermione, why can't you hear me? _Asked Hermione and tried to reach out to her mother with her arms, only to discover that while she saw Mrs Granger, her hands passed right through her image, meeting no resistance.

A second cry could be heard, this time much closer. The wind grew more and more intense, forcing Hermione to momentarily hold onto the mast, though the image of her mother did not seem at all disturbed by the gathering storm. The fog in front of the ship receded even faster, and when the storm front receded, Hermione looked to the horizon and saw an Island emerging from the mist. It was unlike any place she had ever seen; a great wall surrounded it from east to west.

As the ship drew closer to the Island, more of its features became apparent. A small gap emerged between two sections of the wall, with a decaying forest of dead trees at its centre. The wall seemed to be a natural formation of rocks and cliffs, yet many ramparts, guard towers, and firing positions dotted its marble surface. Hermione heard human cries coming from somewhere beyond the wall, and though she could not make out any words spoken, she felt a chilling feeling of hopeless despair at every one of them.

The ship turned towards the Island, its speed increasing as the sail fluttered and then expanded outwards on account of the favourable wind of this heading. Their destination was a slab of seashore at the edge of the dead forest, formed out of a blasted fallen segment of the wall. Other ruins lay scattered in the waters close to the island, some more intact than others, with the tops of buildings bursting through the waves as the tombstones to the once great city that had called the Island home in better days.

An ancient archway stood on the water's edge, at the end of a long wooden pier built on top of the uneven array of supports created by the rooftops. The boat came to rest at the foot of this pier, a fair distance removed from the shore. This seemed to be the only point the ship could safely come into dock without smashing against the ruins. Once it had ceased all movement, Florence Granger disembarked and walked towards the archway.

_Mum! _Screamed her daughter, and attempted to follow in Mrs Granger's path, but when she tried to place one foot on the pier, she found no physical presence to hold her weight and fell into the sea.

* * *

A shout tried to pass through Hermione's throat, but as she tried to call for her mother, her tongue tasted the salt upon her lips, launching her lungs into an instinctive reaction to try and get rid of the excess amounts of water they believed had infiltrated the body. No such great pools of liquid emerged from Hermione's mouth, and a few moments later, rather than panic at drowning in too much water, her body shifted gears and called for immediate rehydration.

Hermione's hand instinctively reached out for the glass of water she often kept by her bedside, and surprisingly enough, such a mug did indeed exist. It was a cup of cold tea that had most likely been left unattended for a few hours, but in her thirst, she would have drunk a sample of the Greater London sewage system. With her immediate bodily demands satisfied, her eyes paused to look at the white mug, and frowned when she saw a rather odd inscription; "Property of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, please rinse carefully before pinching."

Ignoring the presence of her nagging intellect in its attempts to provide her with an answer, Hermione turned its attention to her immediate surroundings. These were a rather archaic looking establishment, with a mish-mash of furnishings, including a chamber pot that was home to several daffodils, and a grandfather clock that seemed to follow a time of its own. A basket of unfamiliar chocolates and candy lay at the edge of the bed.

A sudden bout of snoring made Hermione aware of the fact that she wasn't alone in the room. A middle-aged woman, dressed in an impressive robe of a fine sky-blue tint, was sleeping in a clearly uncomfortable crouching position, with her head held low, snoring into an open newspaper. As Hermione carefully got out of her bed to have a better look at this unknown 'admirer', she noted several fine grey hairs emerging from the faded brown, though the many wrinkles strewn upon her sleeping face seemed excessive if hair colour alone was an adequate indicator of her age.

The newspaper was open in the first page under the heading of "The Daily Prophet", a newspaper Hermione had subscribed to in the days after receiving her Hogwarts letter, out of her desire to learn more about the magical world in the day-to-day. A moving picture of nine smiling children was arrayed in a line from oldest to youngest. A middle-aged couple, an elderly bearded man, and a woman that seemed to match the one sleeping on the chair was seated at the middle, the couple and the woman attempting to appear respectable, while the old man did not hesitate to play with a young girl behind him as she tried to steal his silly looking purple hat. Curious, Hermione brought heir eyes to the top of the frame and read the headlines.

"The Ministry of Magic announced yesterday evening the existence of the Edgar Bones Home for Magical children, thus ending several years of speculation that such a place was in the works. Madam Bones of the DMLE and a major contributor to this great and noble enterprise was at hand to answer our reporter's questions; "After You-Know-Who's defeat, there was considerable uncertainty regarding what could be done to assist the orphaned relations of muggle-borns murdered in the war..." (continued on page 2).

The Holyhead Harpies declared that they would send their old Quidditch equipment to Edgar Bones Home, "If some of the girls pick up the broom, they'll be welcome to fly with us. If some of the boys do the same, we'll have a good fight on our hands…" (continued on page 9)

Gilderoy Lockhart announced that 5% of the proceedings from the upcoming new third edition of his 'Guide to Household Pests', will be donated to Edgar Bones Home. "A definitive book for every household!" says Lockhart… (continued on page 15).

The newspaper slipped through the fingers of the woman identified as Madan Bones. The sudden movement woke her up with a start, her eyes noting the empty bed, and quickly sought out and found Hermione standing over her shoulder. "I see that you are awake Miss Granger. How do you feel?"

The girl in question paused to consider the question, memories of intense pain making themselves known in the periphery of her thoughts, though only a slight tingling sensation from her fingers remained. Madam Bones eyed her with an understanding pitying look "The healers placed a restraining charm upon you until your nervous system readjusted itself to ignore the pain, but it may take a while for your body to return to normal."

Hermione accepted the information with a nod but remained on her feet deep in thought. "My mother is dead, isn't she? I heard the words that man used, it was the killing the curse," she said with a finality that answered her own question, but nonetheless required someone else to say it out loud before she could accept it.

"That is a dark spell someone of your age and background should not normally be aware of, but that is neither here nor there, I am sorry to say that you are correct." Replied Bones, invoking the onset tears in Hermione's eyes the girl quickly wiped away with a resolute wave.

"I want to see my father, is he here?" she asked, though Madam Bones seemed conflicted about her question. "Yes, he is here, but he is undergoing a session with the mind healers at the moment, it would be unwise to disturb them".

Hermione shook her head but kept her eyes staring straight at the older witch, "Mu…dad is a muggle healer, I know how to behave when he works. I won't make a sound, but I want to see him now." She finished with finality. Madam Bones thought over her words for a moment and then stood up from the chair. "Very well Miss Granger, I will take you to him."

The two witches left the room and passed through the sprawling corridors of the 4th floor. As Hermione passed the various wards, she noted that some appeared to be abandoned. On the wall by one such door was a faded wanted poster for the arrest of a witch called Bellatrix Lestrange. The spell that had once made the image move had long since run out of juice, leaving the face of the dark-haired woman frozen in a triumphant sneer.

Madam Bones paused by the poster and ripped it off the wall. "This was once one of the emergency wards operated during the War. I have passed through this place many times since, but I never bothered to notice that 'it' was still here." Bones than pulled out her wand and quickly reduced the paper to cinders. A short moment later, Bones lead Hermione into an active ward with a sign designating it "Mind Healing Chamber."

A wizard, a witch, and an old clean-shaven man stood silently before a bed, not moving even a single finger out of place. When Hermione tried to get a closer look, she felt Madam Bone's hand upon her shoulder. The message was clear, this was as far as she could go while the healers did their work. Several minutes passed in complete silence until in one sudden moment, all the healers seemed to breathe as if they hadn't done so in the last hour.

"Did you feel that Ted? We almost reached him!" declared the witch with excitement.

The wizard shook his head, "His consciousness is still intact, but it has retreated deep into his mind. Reaching it will be a start, but if we don't find a way to pull it out from there, he will simply remain a sleeper for god knows how long."

"No time like the present, let's get to it," proposed the witch. The old man however made known his objections. "Both mind and body require rest, remember that you are healing a muggle; his tolerance for magical treatment is significantly at variance with our own".

"Mr Flamel is right," confirmed the Wizard called Ted, "This case is much more complicated than I thought it would be and I am not aware of a recent precedent. We need to consult our records and appeal to our colleges overseas for advice before we continue."

The three of them thus dispersed, the witch turning to Mr Granger's case log to note the actions they had administrated during the healing session. The Wizard called Ted remained at the patient's side, administrating a concoction of remedies to offset the magical pressure exerted upon him. Nicholas Flamel, himself a guest specialist with no routine assignments in the aftermath of the healing secession he'd been asked to join, noted the visitors to the room and proceeded to greet them.

"I was not aware you are skilled in mind healing Mr Flamel." Noted Madam Bones, somewhat suspiciously, for her patience towards declared members of "Dumbledore's Faction" had waned of late. "I would not describe myself as skilled in the mind arts," replied Flamel, "merely experienced enough to warrant my participation as an observer if nothing else." He then turned to speak to Hermione, "Your father is stable, and as far as we can tell, still conscious of his surroundings. His mind however has retreated into itself and is, for the time being, unable to manifest in the waking world."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that her father would not be taken from her. "Can I see him?" she asked, to which the Wizard called Ted, now done with the treatments responded once he had cast a silencing ward around the patient. "Soon, Miss Granger. As Mr Flamel said, your father seems to be still conscious of his surroundings, not unlike some coma patients in the muggle world. I would recommend we give the remedies a few minutes to take effect. An emotional experience, no matter how happy Mr Granger would feel upon hearing your voice, could provoke an extreme bodily reaction in his current condition."

The door to the chamber opened quietly but in great earnest. A witch dressed in an old-fashioned nurse's uniform tiptoed inside, and upon seeing that the healers were not occupied, launched into a desperate appeal. "Mr Longbottom appears to be in one of his nightmares again. Could you please attend to him? I am at my wit's end."

Ted the Wizard and the mind healing Witch seemed less than thrilled at the prospect of another engagement so soon after the last at this late hour. Their turn on queue into a game of paper rock and scissors seemed to indicate they were well accustomed to the possibility of such an event, however.

"Will your lucky steak ever end Roxana?" Complained Ted as his stone fell before Roxana's paper. His college grinned, "chin up Tonks. Perhaps nosing about in another difficult Cruciatus case will give you a few ideas for this one." Upon hearing this, Hermione quietly followed healer Tonks and the nurse, exploiting Madam Bones preoccupation; "It may strike you as odd Mr Flamel, but just like our colleagues in France, the British ministry of magic believes in due process. What possessed you to inform Dumbledore of Crouch Senior's deception and not the Auror Office?"

Hermione did not remain in the room long enough to hear Flamel's answer to that question as she quietly followed the medical staff intent on seeing for herself what the possible aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse might be. Mr Tonks and the nurse led her to a section designated the "Janus Thickey Ward". The nurse whispered an incantation and opened the door. Hermione at first paused to pull out her own wand, but noticed it was not on her person, and rushed to put her foot through the door to prevent it from closing shut. With that done, she slowly opened the door, and noting that the coast was clear, slipped into the ward.

Most of the screens around the patient beds were closed, each producing an area of a night like darkness, as the ward itself remained lit even at this late hour. One of the shutters, however, was open, the cries of pain all too apparent. Hermione closed in on the bed producing the cries, using the screens to cover her approach. Once she arrived within sight of the occupants, she saw Mr Tonks gazing intently into a sickly-looking man's eyes, as the nurse struggled to keep these open despite his unconscious state. Besides the man, a woman in a faded blue nightdress sat on a bed adjourning to the man's bed in the confines of the same shutter. The woman was thinner and paler then looked healthy and seemed focused on her enjoyment of chewing gum all but oblivious to the other's suffering.

A few moments later, the man's eyes opened of their own accord, and both Mr Tonks and the nurse breathed a sigh of relief. The man sat up on his bed with a blank expression, saliva pouring out of his mouth. "Welcome back Frank!" said the Nurse, summoning a towel to wipe his lips and pyjamas. With that done, she took a step back and beamed "My, you are looking livelier already!" she said, though in Hermione's view, the man had been more alive during his nightmare. Tears once again tingled in her eyes.

"Hermione?" the girl turned and saw Madam Bones and Nicholas Flamel at the entrance to the ward. Madam Bones seemed ready to reproach her but softened when she saw the trails of water forming against her cheeks. "Will dad wake up like that?" Asked Hermione, struggling to contain the growing chasm of misery forming in her chest.

Mr Tonks now alerted to her presence laid a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "I want the truth, do not patronize me!" shouted Hermione before the healer could even say his piece. "It's too soon to say", he said with honesty, not trying to conceal the possibility that history would repeat itself. Hermione sniffed, but forced back her tears one last time, "Can I be with my father now?" she asked, to which Mr Tonks nodded and accompanied her towards the door.

"Miss Granger?" Said Flamel prompting her to pause by the door and turn her attention to the old man. "I found your wand in the clinic and wish to restore it to you," he said, holding the wand out in his hands. Hermione grasped to take it back into her possession, but when it came before her eyes, an intense loathing for everything magical suddenly formed in her mind. Hermione abruptly turned and left the ward, tossing the wand to the corridor floor with the same contempt a child afforded the stick left behind ice lolly once all its sweetness had been expunged. As the wand fell, it cast a spell of its own volition sealing shut the door behind Hermione and the healer, leaving the others the task of puzzling the charm left behind by a sulking wand.

When Hermione and healer Tonks returned to the mind healing chamber, the latter checked on the patient and removed the silencing ward from his bed. "Please…leave us alone." The healer nodded and closed the door. A moment later, Hermione fell against her father's chest and sobbed.

* * *

A knock on the door woke Hermione up from her impromptu slumber with no recollection of how long she had slept at her father's side. The light emerging from the window suggested that it had been a while. "Go away!" she mumbled, unwilling to entertain any visitors. "It's Harry Potter, Madam Bones said that you were here."

Hermione let the unspoken request from the boy who lived hang in the air for a short while before she got up and opened the door to let him in. "Um, do you mind if I join you?" asked Harry, to which Hermione nodded. The two of them sat together by Mr Granger's bed, though no further words passed between them for several moments. "How are you then?" Hermione half asked half snapped, confused by her conflicting emotions.

Harry shrugged, "I'm alright I guess, Edgar Bones Home beats the Dursleys at any rate, and the healer I met here for my check up was very nice."

"I didn't see you on the picture published in the daily prophet."

"Dumbledore does not want the public to know that I am there yet. Everyone's safer that way."

Hermione frowned, "Before…all this happened, I wanted to be like Dumbledore; a brilliant witch of Gryffindor House. Now, I don't know if I even want to be a part of this world anymore."

"My greatest wish was to be free of the Dursleys…my relatives," whispered Harry as if by doing so he would not hear himself saying those words. "Now that this has happened, there is no place left for me in the muggle world. This is all I have." He finished, gesturing to the chamber.

Hermione pondered his words and sighed, "I have no extended family to speak of, nobody fit to take care of me at any rate. Perhaps you are right, and this is all I have, but what use is that if the magical world will not accept me for what I am?"

"I don't get the magical blood stuff, it's dumb," said Harry with conviction, "but your wand kept Madam Bones and the others locked up in a ward for half an hour before they managed to undo the enchantment." Harry held out her wand in his hands, "if your wand does that to keep people off your back when you are sad, then it looks like some part of the magical world sure does accept you."

She looked at her wand intently, why had it chosen her? The wand chooses the witch said Mr Ollivander, could it be as simple as that? Hermione picked up her wand and was surprised to sense a wave of magic coming out of it towards her father's bed, tucking him under the blanket to keep him warm.

"In that sentiment, I think we can work together." She told her wand and got off the chair. "Always be sure that you are right, then go ahead," recited Hermione to her father's sleeping body, "That's what mum always said when kids teased me at school. I am going ahead, for you and her, because I know that they are wrong. I'm right where I belong."

* * *

**Note of the Amateur: **

As I was unable to make much headway with my other story, I have decided to stick with this one. The previous chapter's rather excessive length seems to have been an anomaly, as the length I am most comfortable with is between 3,000-4,000 words. I intend for this to be the standardized size of all chapters I write in the future for this story.

You might have noticed that the last word in the title of this story has been changed from Phoenix to Circle. This was done to better reflect my current intentions with this story and a certain aspect of it I intend to explore in the near future. I would ask readers to deliver their predict regarding the POV featuring Tanya in chapter 4. Do you feel that it enriched your reading experience? Or was it redundant and better left out?

This chapter introduced Hermione's POV in what I hope was an honest attempt to write her character under the circumstances. I had intended to include other scenes, but I felt that Hermione needed this chapter to be all her own to deal with both the complicated feelings she is experiencing, and begin what I intend to be the main setup of the story; alternating POVs between Harry and Hermione. The deadline for the next chapter will be two weeks from now, around about the 17th of May, though as usual, this is purely a personal objective that life can quite easily displace.

Thank you for your patronage,

**_A Lover of Nature._**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling and any organization empowered by her to that effect own the Harry Potter title and its related products. Moreover, I consider that Carthage must be destroyed.


	6. Chapter 6: The Circle Part 1

**Chapter 6: "The Circle Part 1"**

The door squeaked open to her key, revealing a dark corridor enclosed from daylight by shutters. In the days prior to the attack, Florence Granger intended to wax the troublesome entry, but she never had the chance to attend to it. The whine thus had a mournful tone to it to Hemione's ear. A flick of a switch brought on the lights of the Granger family's suburban home back to life, a feat that came as no surprise to the muggle-born healer Ted Tonks, whom had elected to accompany Hermione on this journey. A bird's call momentarily distracted her, but when she paused to look outside the door, she saw nothing.

They entered the living room with the silence appropriate in a graveyard. A red light flashed upon the telephone indicating several unanswered voice messages, but beyond this indicator of the house resident's absence, it didn't yet seem at all abandoned. This Sunday's copy of the Observer remained on the doorstep and dust hadn't yet accumulated leaving the house as spotlessly clean as its medically minded owners left it. "What will happen to the house?" Asked Hermione, more out of idle curiosity than genuine concern; she was unable to truly care with much larger questions on her mind.

"My guess is that the house will be mothballed until your father recovers, or you are of age. Come to think of it, I ought to disconnect the gas, electronics, and dispose of the foodstuffs. I know a muggle charity that would appreciate the donation of the latter, assuming of course you are fine with that?"

Hermione nodded her acceptance, "Yes, of course, that is sensible… I will get my things." She said and headed to her room as healer Tonks pulled out his wand and went about business of preparing the house for the many quiet years ahead. When the door to her room closed, Hermione was well in mind to seek the comfort of her pillow to cry on, but too many tears passed over her cheeks in the days after the attack, and she had to be strong; if not for herself, then for them. A short sniff did away with her earlier sorrow, and the young girl pressed on with the task of packing her Hogwarts supplies and anything else she needed.

Her room was largely an extension of her character. Books littered most of the available wall space until even the floor and wardrobe contained a few more besides. The latter concealed her growing collection from the magical world from prying muggle eyes. Hermione received her Hogwarts acceptance letter on the 19th of September 1990, too late to attend that year, but early enough for Hermione to make every little bit of pocket money count. Most of the books were consequently unnecessary as far as Hogwarts was concerned, but she packed them all nonetheless, and a few muggle ones besides. Hermione hugged her copy of Hogwarts a History once she found it; she knew it was irrational, and if the Hogwarts Library was anything like this book said it was, there would hardly be any need for them. Books were however static and unchanging objects she could hang onto at this difficult time.

With the question of what books would go with her settled the rest of the packing was a relatively quick affair. When she left her room to ask healer Tonks to shrink her things for her, she was surprised to see him finished with the tasks he had assigned to himself, seated at the dining room table with some tea for the two of them. "Thank you", she muttered and took a sip of her still moderately warm mug.

Healer Tonks smiled, but seemed to struggle with an idea he didn't know exactly how to speak outload. "Miss Granger…Hermione, I understand that none of your extended muggle family are in a position to assume responsibility for your welfare. The McKinnons are excellent guardians, but you do have another alternative. My wife and I have been talking about you lately, and we thought that as our daughter is of age, we would be in a position to take care of you, at least until such a time your father is able to resume the responsibility."

"I…thank you, I don't know what to say," started Hermione, touched by the selfless proposal, but unsure about her feelings towards it. "You do not have to decide now; the option stands whenever you might wish for it. For now, you are welcome to join us for dinner sometime, we would be glad for the company." said Tonks, leaving the table to shrink the various bundles of books and clothes hurriedly packed into every available bag in the house.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked with a raised eyebrow at the sight of the literary plenitude. Hermione for her part didn't notice the slight edge sarcasm in the healer's words and pondered the question seriously. "No, there is something else," she said and rushed to her parent's bedroom. A few moments later, Hermione emerged with yet another book that looked archaic enough to be a magical one, though it was a decidedly muggle artefact. Tonks seemed amused, but his expression softened when he saw the faded title of the book; "_The Granger Family Bible", _further identified in its sentimental role by the small portrait of a young couple and a familiar toddler attached to it.

"That's it, we can leave," said Hermione and followed Tonks to the front door, casting one final look at her family home. Objectively, she knew that the structure would remain and that perhaps she would one day call it home once more, but in her heart, she keenly felt a sense of loss. Tragedy taught her the bitter lesson that home was not merely a place of residence, but the people that made it special. Never again would she spend the day before Christmas decorating the tree with her mother or, if the worse came to pass, enjoy the long discussions with her father, from matters of ethics to the correct ratio of ingredients in a Pizza Provençale.

Tonks gave her a moment to make her peace, and once he saw she was done, he opened the door for her and then turned his attention to the distribution board. With a flick of the main switch, the lights fell dark once more. Hermione left the dark corridor behind and stepped towards the pavement bathed in the midday sun. In the shadow of one of the neighbourhood's trees, a raven quietly sat on a branch watching as the young witch departed.

* * *

"Are you finished yet?" called the aggravated voice of Susan Fenwick, who had impatiently waited for her chance to purchase a wand for several long minutes. "Give Harry a few more moments dear, wand-fitting is a tricky business that can often take a while to get right. My sister took almost an hour to find her match! I often wish that I'd had the opportunity to get my own." Said Edith McKinnon with a wistful sigh.

Harry and Mr Olivanders emerged from behind the stacks of wand boxes dividing up the small shop into impromptu reception and fitting areas. Harry looked at his new wand with a measure of concern, "what does it mean? Why would I get the 'brother' wand of vol, sorry, You-Know-Who?" asked Harry. "The wand may choose the wizard Mr Potter, but it is the wizard who chooses whether to use the wand for good or for ill, more than that I cannot say." Said Mr Olivanders, who seemed erringly exited by the prospect of brother wands rather than apprehensive.

The wandmaker than turned to Mrs McKinnon and her other charge, "another one of your flock Edith? Oh yes, I have seen those piercing dark eyes before in the gaze of another; a rather rigid eleven inches long pinewood and dragon heartstring wand, excellent for duelling. May I inquire of your relation to Benjamin Fenwick?" He said, giving Susan the same eerie look Harry found so discomforting. The girl seemed to try and match it with mixed results. "He was my father, or so I am told," she replied with a huff, giving up the fight to out spook the spook. The wandmaker left for a moment to fetch a box, returning with a wand that matched the description of her progenitor. Susan copied Harry's earlier wave with a bit more speed but was answered with a distinct smash of glass somewhere in the shop before Olivander could get the offended piece of wood out of her hand.

"Most assuredly not, please try to wave the wand a bit more slowly; I would prefer to relieve my wands from customers before they take out their complaints about a mismatch on the shop. Tell me, what do you know of your mother?" Susan shrugged her shoulders, "she was a norm, I don't see how she would matter for a magic wand", she said, much to Mrs McKinnon's annoyance, who unwillingly mouthed the word muggle to the benefit of the slightly confused shop owner. "Oh, but it matters a great deal Miss Fenwick, wands are indeed magical, but they are mostly particular about their partner's character. Where we come from often says a great deal about where we are going." The girl didn't look convinced, "I never knew her, so there isn't anything I can tell you anyway."

Olivander brought another wand but stanched it away as quickly as he'd given it. "Not much to go on I am afraid, so this fitting may take a while. Are there any other children from your establishment in need of a wand today?" he asked Edith. "Only Jim, the son of Dorcas Meadowes, he went with Peter and Tanya to the pet shop, should I bring him?" Olivander stanched another wand out of the hands of the increasingly irritated Susan. "I was sad to hear of her death, sycamore wood with a phoenix core feather 12 ¼ and a bendy sort of flexibility; just what an aspiring researcher would need for experimentation. Yes, do please bring him over, though I suspect that this fitting might not be dissimilar from that of your sister, so you need not rush." "Will you be alright staying here until I return?" asked Edith. "Sure, no problem! I will just stand here, going through wand after wand, and try my best not to lose my sanity!" replied Susan with a rather crazed looking grin. Edith beamed "that's the spirit dear!" she said, and quickly led Harry out of the shop to make their escape.

The two of them emerged on the main street of Diagon Alley, joining the mass of pedestrians roaming the place during rush hour. "Magical Menagerie is only a few blocks away. It shouldn't take us long to get there." Said Edith with the sort of confidence that the fates loved to undercut. Sure enough, an old man with a thick white moustache and a black cloak strode into the street with a serious expression. As suddenly as he emerged, he threw off his dark cloak revealing dozens perhaps even hundreds of small rockets attached to launch pads sown on to his pink woollen bloomers and night shirt that with a sprinkle of a water charm flew sky high, exploding into an amazing display of fireworks. When the smoke around the man settled, gone was the serious expression replaced by a toothy grin; the man was also now dressed in a jester's outfit complemented by a dozen dancing gnomes in similar if much smaller outfits.

"Gather round folks both young and old! I Jubilee Gambol of the ridiculously successful Gambol & Japes Wizarding Joke Shop present the latest in the line of original works guaranteed to bedazzle razzle and otherwise stupefy the imagination; Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks Mark 5! Now equipped with a customizable range finding and built-in double crosser homing charms! Limited supply of first production run only! Get your gallons into the arms race now before everybody else does!"

With these words, a swarm of youths seemed to appear from nowhere, forming a human barrier between Harry, Edith, and the rest of Daigon Alley. "Is this sort of thing normal around here?" asked Harry with bewilderment. Edith laughed with exasperation, "You don't know the half of it, the question is, what are we going to do about it?" The elderly squib opened her handbag and much to Harry's surprise managed to pull out the entire length of a broom from its invisible depths.

"Hop on and hold firm Harry, with all those rockets going up and about, this trip is liable to turn out to be not dissimilar to what Andy informs me his stint in Bomber Command was like." With that, the pair sored into the air, zigzagging above the crowd to avoid the sporadic flak of rockets fired off by impatient hooligans. "When are the quidditch supplies donated by the Holyhead Harpies due to arrive?" shouted Harry trying to make his voice heard amid the explosions. "Sometime tomorrow Harry, why?" asked Edith. Harry let out a cry of fight as a rocket passed over his head that quickly became a bout of uncontrollable laughter when it exploded into a brilliant red rose. "I want to fly like this every day for the rest of my life!" he explained amid giggles of delight that were quickly joined by those of his guardian as they came in to land.

Once Edith and Harry managed to successfully push the broom back into the handbag and looked up at the sign in front of them, Florean Ice Cream, Edith grinned mischievously, "It appears we have overshot our target, but I can't say it is an unappealing detour. What flavours do you usually pick Harry?" she asked but was soon interrupted by another voice calling for that same name. "Hermione?! They let you out already?" exclaimed Harry, surprised to see the girl as she was supposed to be still confined to hospital until later this evening. The girl nodded happily, turning her mouth away from her generous helping of a strawberry, apple, and most importantly, low sugar sorbet, glad to be out and about. "Healer Tonks intervened to get me released earlier than planned to pick up my school supplies," she explained, gesturing towards a wizard Harry identified as healer Tonks from the hospital. Edith soon came by with two servings of ice cream and a larger box with a freezing charm to take home with her.

The four of them remained seated for a few minutes until they all finished their snacks. Tonks then left their company to return to the hospital for his next shift, leaving Hermione in Edith's care as the three of them headed for the pet shop. Common and exotic animals alike called the exhibition glasses home, from household cats to the crabs keeping them at bay with flames emerging from their posteriors. "I would have preferred that we frequent the Owl Emporium, but apart from dear sensible Peter, Tanya is 'keen' on reptilians, and Jim will probably try to get one of those crabs unless I stop him." Sure enough, she went and did just that by almost physically dragging him away towards exit. "Hermione dear, do you happen to have your Hogwarts shopping list with you?" Asked Edith as she turned to leave with her fire happy charge to Olivanders, but Hermione shook her head. "Peter, please take Jim's shopping list and make sure Harry and Hermione have everything they need, Harry hasn't received his Hogwarts letter yet." The older boy accepted the list and a small pouch of gold and turned to address the younger children as Edith turned all her authority towards separating between Jim and a particularly vicious fire crab keen to make the acquaintance of the boy's fingers. "So, you are the new girl, Hermione Granger, hmm that's from The Winter's Tale isn't it?" he asked, much to her delight. "Yes! Not many kids make the connection!"

The tanned boy, though somewhat stoic by nature, couldn't help but return a small smile. "My name is Pierre Ganim, second year Hufflepuff, though most Brits prefer to call me Peter. The boy you saw get dragged out of the shop by our confusingly magical none magical variant of Mary Poppins was James Meadows, usually referred to as Jim or Git depending on how obnoxious he happens to be at the time. The girl gawking at the snakes marked extremely dangerous is none other than my housemate Tanya Ruskowski, and least I get my eyes plucked out, the owl seated on my shoulder is called Maxentius." Sure enough, the eagle owl basked in the attention as if he truly were a Roman Emperor and then flew away to give the rats a scare and impress the she owls.

"Do you have all of your supplies? A wand, textbooks, telescope, cauldron, the lot?" asked Peter, checking out each item as they got to it until only one remained. "Are you interested in getting a pet? The list says you can get an owl, cat, or toad." As if to undermine that statement, the girl called Tanya pressed her head against the display window marvelling at the scales. "So cute!" she exclaimed, though the Snakes didn't seem pleased at being awakened from their nap.

"_Oh shucks, its that crazy human again!" _said a voice that caught Harry's attention.

"_Don't worry about it Boomie, just ignore her and she will eventually go away"._

"_But Sol, what if she decides to take one of us? We never figured out what happened to Stopsky!" _

Harry was dead sure that the voices were coming from the snakes, but that didn't make any sense, or did it? The magical world didn't seem to follow conventional muggle wisdom on such matters. "Um, is there any such thing as a talking snake?" He asked invoking a rather baffled look from Peter. "Not that I know of, but some wizards can understand and communicate with snakes through a magical language called Parstletongue. Several dark wizards, including You-Know-Who, spoke it, and consequently it is an ability that has a rather negative reputation in wizarding society, why do you ask? You are not thinking of sneaking a snake into Hogwarts, are you? Tanya served detention with professor Snape for that in first year extracting potions ingredients from dead snakes."

"No, I was just being curious, I want um, an owl." Said Harry, seizing on any excuse to divert the conversation. Voldemort's brother wand and now they could speak the same language with the animal decried by mankind since Adam and Eve? At this rate the wizarding world would think he is a dark lord in training or something!

"Then you will want to visit the Owl Emporium, they have a much better selection of owls, go figure; that's were Maxentius came from. How about you Hermione?" Asked Peter. Hermione shook her head, "No thank you, any pet I take with me to Hogwarts this year is liable to either die from neglect or live an attention depraved existence as I spend every ounce of spare time exploring the Hogwarts Library." The three youths, plus one reluctant snake enthusiast, thus made their way towards the owl shop closely followed by a toad who had been forgotten by its occasionally single-minded owner.

* * *

The welcoming feast had been a splendid affair of fine foods and a welcoming spirit Hermione never experienced before among children from her own age group. Even Harry's new owl seemed have had a blast chewing on the leftovers of the pork casserole. All in all, Hermione felt she could drift to sleep with a measure of contentedness she hadn't felt since the attack.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and forced her unwillingly out of bed. What is it?" she asked irritably, but the door to her temporary lodgings in the guest room opened before she could reach it, revealing Susan Fenwick, Tanya, Peter, and Harry at the entrance, though latter at least had the decency to look bashful at the thought of keeping her awake at this hour. "The Circle gathers tonight, you are called to join our ranks" whispered Susan, much to Hermione's bewilderment. "What she means is that you are invited to attend an initiation ceremony that has become something of a tradition with the magical kids of this house. Tanya and I need to retake at as well because we broke the rule last year." said Peter, clearly displeased with how ridiculous it all sounded, but resigned to the fact that he would have to go through the ritual.

Hermione was very tempted to tell them all to shove off, but the gaze of six purposeful eyes and two rather confused ones quickly brought the unspoken peer pressure to bear until she relented. "Good, put on your shoes, we are going outside the manor." Said Susan. The company of five children was soon joined by the younger kids as they all crept out of the house with a diligence that showed they had done this many a time before. They marched together on a trail through the surrounding forest, several kids holding flashlights tied up to polls to appear like ritualistic touches and light their path. "It's a shame really, a part of me enjoyed being able to keep secrets again," mumbled Tanya, much to Hermione's confusion, but before she could ask what she meant, the party finally reached its destination; an ancient stone circle not unlike Stonehenge if much smaller.

When Hermione passed by the stones of the circle, she shivered for the temperature around her felt much colder than before. The younger kids raced ahead and shoved in the makeshift touches to sockets tied on the standing stones. The new influx of light aimed at the circle's centre revealed an ominous looking archway Hermione had only seen in dreams. Susan Fenwick did not stop by the stones like the rest of the children but continued to walk towards the archway with no hint of stopping before she went right through it. "Stop! Don't go near that thing!" exclaimed Hermione, but it was already too late.

* * *

**Note of the Amateur: **

Due to the realities of student life, I couldn't find the time to write another chapter in May and this one might very well be the only one I write in June. I expect to have more time to write at the end of July when I expect to complete most of my exams. The story won't immediately turn to Hogwarts as I have a few ideas for stories the characters could pursue over the summer before term begins. My immediate intention is to explore Harry and Hermione's characters and introduce some of the OCs.

This chapter feels a bit like filler to me, but I felt I needed to give the characters some time off before they started their next adventure. Consequently, I decided to cut up this chapter in two in order to incorporate both aspects. I am still learning how to navigate serious scenes and more jovial ones, so I am unsure if the opening and closing scenes work all that well with the middle one. Reviews on that point would be welcome, and on that topic, I intend to move my answers out of the PM box and onto these notes.

**Answers to Reviews:**

Guest reviewer "Fast Frank": you will find an answer to your review on the notes of chapter 4 addressed to guest reviewer 3.

Guest review from the 15th of May: I thought Hermione would chew out Harry when I wrote that scene, it didn't feel right for her to do it. The resentment is there, but it would need a trigger to flow out, though one might present itself sooner rather than later. I am glad you enjoyed Madam Bones; she won't be in every chapter, as it would be rather odd for a busy ministry official to find that much time for a bunch of kids, but she will often be there when I need a character to give a voice of criticism against Dumbledore's machinations. I think I answered the possibilities with the Tonks family in this chapter, but I hadn't thought about incorporating Neville through Hermione's meeting with his parents. It is a good idea, so I may very well pick it up, but I am not sure how or when that would happen yet.

Thank you for your patronage,

_**A Lover of Nature.**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling and any organization empowered by her to that effect own t Harry Potter title and its related products. Moreover, I consider that Carthage must be destroyed.


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